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theonewiththefanfics · 1 year

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The Layers of Thomas Shelby - Frozen Fear (one-shot)

Synopsis: Fear was an emotion Tommy elicited in others. He never thought he'd feel it himself. Not like that. Never like that...

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, slight fluff

Warnings: graphic descriptions of blood, injuries, kidnapping, swearing, death not sticking to canon whatsoever :)

Word count: 3028

Fear was something Thomas Shelby was intimately acquainted with. He elicited it and made others tremble to their very core with just a glance or a whisper of his name from someone else’s lips. Fear was as much a shadow in his life, as his daughter who followed him around wherever she could.

But fear was also what he felt in that exact moment as he stared at the bloodied napkin on his table, the silver locket he’d gifted Y/N when their child had turned one inside it, a simple note of “For Angel” attached to it.

Sadie was tight asleep on his chest when he’d received the damned box. Y/N had taken her to Ada’s so she could have the day to herself, get her body pampered, do up her hair and maybe spend a bit of money on some new shoes or a winter coat as a birthday present from him. If she’d asked, Tommy would’ve bought her the Eifel tower, and she’d bloody well deserve it. Valentine's was coming up, after all.

He was so proud of her. Despite the certain things that’d happened, he wouldn’t want anyone else to share a life with. She’d picked up the broken pieces Grace had left his heart in and mended it with gold. But gold didn’t matter at that moment when he didn’t know where she was. Where her body was.

When Frances had brought in the box that’d been left by the doorstep, Sadie had been softly snoring on his shoulder for the better part of an hour while he ran tired blue eyes over the logs of the previous week.

He thanked her, his voice a whisper to not stir his toddler, before cautiously examining the square. When he opened it, Tommy swore his heart stopped beating. Or he wished it did. Because it wasn’t like that time when Grace’s boyfriend had taken Y/N, or like that time she’d gotten mugged behind a shop. No. This time, he knew she was dead, and he wished he was too.

It took all of his self-control to ring up his brothers and tell them to get to Arrow House right that second. It took all of his restraint not to shout or scream, the only thing tethering him to earth and sanity his pride and joy asleep in his arms.

When Arthur and John got to his home office, Tommy simply threw them the note, his eyes trained on the small oval locket, thumb tracing the inscription upon it, smearing blood more and more over his own hands.

“Find her.” Those were the only words he uttered.

For a brief second, he’d glanced up and saw terror rush through the eyes of his brothers; he knew how much the two loved his wife, they loved her like they loved Ada and Polly, so without a second to spare, they ran back out, no doubt to gather every Blinder and search every nook and cranny while he clutched the brown-haired girl to his chest, the silver locket clutched in his other palm.

He wasn’t a religious man, didn’t even necessarily believe what his gipsy ancestors did or even his aunt Pol, but at that moment he turned his head to the ceiling and prayed to whoever might listen, old gods and new, Norse and Greek and Slavic – anyone that would hear his pleas.

Tommy thought back to every time Y/N had smiled at him, had laughed and filled his world with light. He even thought back to all those insane moments where he felt like his jaw would snap with how hard he’d been clenching it because of some stupid thing she’d done. He wished he’d appreciated those moments more because when two hours later Arthur came back to the house, the coat his wife had been wearing that morning in his hands, soaked and dripping freezing water onto the Turkish carpet, Tommy knew she was gone.

***

Her whole world consisted of cold, nothing else. It was the only thing she could feel, taste and sense. Was there anything to sense? Y/N didn’t know. She didn’t even fully believe her legs were still attached to her body, but somehow she was making her way across the field.

Time had become a concept she couldn’t comprehend, and the only thing that showed it had passed was the ever-changing position of the moon - her only companion through the long journey.

She had stopped shaking a while back, which it didn’t take her being a genius to know meant trouble if she didn’t find a way to get warm, but even that didn’t matter. Nothing but getting home did. If she had to die, she wanted to do it there, not somewhere in a ditch let alone beneath the frozen surface of the lake where Luka Changretta had dumped her.

He thought she’d been dead. He’d slit her throat, but not before ripping off the beautiful little necklace Tommy had gifted her.

“So he has something to remember you by,” the Italian mobster had given her a mocking smile before taking a knife from his side and slicing it across her neck.

The pain had been blinding, knocking all sense of reality out of her mind. She knew it would be the end. When her body lifted above the chair she’d been tied to, when her back greeted plush leather seats, her blood staining them forever. She knew she would die sooner or later. Then sweet blackness greeted her.

But death was a lot more painful than what it’d been described to be like in all the books she'd read and edited, especially the wound in her throat. Her breaths were white-hot knives dragging down her oesophagus and her lungs were on fire with each shallow take of air.

Through a haze, Y/N heard Italian being spoken before two rough hands grabbed her by the ankles and dragged her out of the car.

Her body hit the frozen ground with a thud, and it took every bit of remaining brainpower not to whimper from the pain. The winter air stung every piece of her body inside and out, caressing her with icy nails.

Slowly her mind was coming to, the cold sobering her up, but when someone took her wrists and another took her by the ankles, setting her flying, it was the frozen surface of the lake she cracked through that awoke her completely.

Y/E/C eyes flew open, murky depths of the water greeting her while every nerve and cell in her got shocked. Instinct told her to swim up, get a breath, and get out of the water before it pulled her under, but with the mightiness of a Norse goddess, Y/N suppressed all that and allowed the lake to gently pull her down, and her mind finally started to understand what’d happened.

They thought she was dead and decided to throw her body in some lake, probably hoping it would freeze over before she floated to the top and would remain that way until the very spring, prolonging the pain for her family.

The thought of her family grieving her was the only thing keeping Y/N from not trashing below the still surface. Instead, she slowly slipped her arms out from the coat and let it move to the top, while she sunk lower and lower.

Soon enough her feet touched the slimy earth below, which is when she once more opened her eyes and glanced up. There wasn’t really anything to see, apart from the light of the moon streaming in through the broken place where her body had been thrown and two retreating headlights.

Y/N waited two more seconds her whole being in shock and begging to get out and away from the cold when she pushed upwards and broke the surface. She gulped the air down in greedy takes, not caring about her split neck or the trembling of her body - at that moment all she cared for was air.

Her teeth were chattering so hard she pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth, afraid it might get caught between them and she’d bite it off. Swishing her head around, she looked if the ice had broken anywhere else. Out. She needed to get out. And to whatever god had taken pity on her after everything, underneath a small makeshift pier where kids would come and fish, the ice had cracked right to the very edge.

She knew every second spent in the water was a second closer to hypothermia, so as quick as her frozen limbs would allow, she swam to the land. It was a hand’s stretch away when another pair of headlights came into view. Y/N cursed and instead of getting out of the lake, she ducked underneath the wooden planks, pressing a palm to her mouth, so whoever it was wouldn’t notice the air steaming up in the air from her mouth.

Her ears were ringing, so Y/N couldn’t hear whatever the men were talking about, only see how they fished out her coat and took it with them. They left another minute later, and she swore at whoever it was for costing it to her. Home. She needed to get home and fast, but she couldn’t be seen, couldn’t let Changretta know he’d half-assed her murder and she’d survived. He wouldn’t do so again, so Y/N waited another bone-chilling minute, checking if any car passed by again.

And then she got out, her dress clinging to her body, hair against her face, matted with seaweeds and blood, one heel of her boot snapped off – a wraith come to life and ready to haunt.

The first step was agonising, and Y/N collapsed underneath her weight, needles piercing her feet. Her knees bruised and scraped raw against the stony earth as did her hands, but she welcomed the pain, let it ground her, and used it to remind herself – pain meant she was alive. No pain would be the real problem.

Y/N wrapped her hands around her body, digging her nails into her biceps, each step an arduous labour. Small pebbles cut the soles of her feet; she’d lost her shoes somewhere along the way; her bones ached from the very inside and each breath was a task, the wound in her neck, although scabbed over, split with every small movement, small streams of blood trickling down and staining her white dress.

Lights were visible in the distance, even as her vision blurred more and more, the small bright dots becoming stretched-out beams before everything tilted and she was staring up at the sky.

The stars were magnificent, she thought. You couldn’t really see them shine like that in the city. Even with Arrow House being further away from the centre, the beauty of it didn’t compare to that of the open field.

Her mind went back to Tommy, to how they met, how they used to bicker about every single thing and to that first morning she’d woken up beside him and instead of finding his pillow cold, a strong arm had been wrapped around the middle, his nose hidden in her hair.

Neither mentioned it a few hours later at breakfast, but it’d been the day things slowly had started to shift. Then she’d gotten shot, and the switch had completely been flipped. All those glances they’d shared, the soft smiles and tiny touches were no longer hidden, but out on full display. His hand now always gravitated to touch any part of her, they fell asleep facing one another, most times Y/N using Tommy’s chest as a pillow. And then someone else came along and used his chest as a pillow, his heartbeat as a lullaby and his eyes as the ocean to pull them in and never let go.

She’d been scared to become a mom, but even with that, she’d never seen Tommy so absolutely terrified. When Y/N had gone into labour, she thought he would pass out, but he swallowed the fear and stayed with her. Despite Ada being adamantly against a man being present during “women’s business”, she’d threatened to break her neck if she so much as looked at Tommy, Polly snorting beside her.

“He put me in this position, and by God, he will be here,” Y/N had sneered at her sister-in-law before a contraption rippled through her body and she almost crushed her husband’s hand.

But then the pain went away and a small wriggling person was placed on her chest. She’d never seen Tommy fully break down before that.

“Huh,” Ada had shrugged. “So he does have a heart.”

She’d promptly received a smack from Polly and Y/N for that comment, but Tommy had chuckled.

“No, I don’t.” He’d leaned in and pressed a kiss to his wife’s temple. “These two stole it a long time ago.”

After that day, it wasn’t uncommon to find Tommy either in his office or even in their bed with Sadie sound asleep on his chest. She just about melted each time.

But now all that stared back at her was the cloudless winter sky. Y/N wanted to sob at the thought she’d never see Tommy’s blue eyes anymore or fix the way Sadie’s curls framed her face, but every little movement was agonising, so she just laid there, staring at the cosmos and waiting for that black void to get her.

***

When Y/N came to she was confused as to why there was so much yelling when being dead, why her head was pounding and her body was racked by violent shivers.

“You undressed my fucking wife!” A deep voice boomed from somewhere very far away it seemed while at the same time, the noise echoed in her skull, rattling her brain.

“Oh, would you have liked me to have left her in that frozen fucking dress?” A deep, gruff one replied. “She was already hypothermic, but by all means, you’d rather no one saw her in her knickers than be alive.”

“Shut your fucking mouth, Solomons!”

That name being said snapped her eyes open, which was a big fucking mistake, as even the warm light from a candle by the bed and from the fireplace was enough to make Y/N feel like she was looking directly at the sun and burning her retinas.

Another horrible shiver went through her frame, her teeth chattering nonstop. Pins and needles were running all over her skin and Y/N curled up in a ball as if trying to not let any of the heat she’d managed to get back escape, but that only made her feel more pain, a groan escaping her mouth. That small noise was enough though for the door to be busted open and for two men – one lean and tall, the other a burly, beard-covered menace to rush inside.

Tommy was by her in an instant, a careful palm placed on her cheek.

“Don’t try to talk,” his own voice was that of a whisper. “The wound’s pretty rough.”

If it didn’t feel like it’d hurt like hell, Y/N would’ve just rolled her eyes, but all she could do was squeeze them shut as shivers went through her body. When Tommy saw that, he was instantly on his feet, going for the fireplace and adding more logs to the dwindling flames.

When he turned around, Y/N had slid her shaking hand from underneath the duvet and extended it to him, a silent plea for him to come back.

It didn’t take much more than that for Tommy to take off his jacket and suit, not caring about the company in the room, his trousers following until he was in his breeches, sliding into the bed, wrapping her frozen body with his own warmth.

A groan escaped her mouth, as she clung to him, Tommy releasing a string of expletives when sensing just how cold Y/N actually was.

“Bloody hell, woman,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to her forehead and tucking her face into the crook of his neck.

Gently, he intertwined her legs with his, and his fingers went to card through her matted strands, the motion more so calming him down, than her.

He’d put their daughter in bed after calling for Polly to come, with the thought Y/N was dead, his whole being a numb void. He’d thought the only time he’d ever get to see her again was after her body was found, that was if it’d be in a recognisable condition, so he’d take her frozen feet against his calves, her cold lips against his chest and stiff fingers digging painfully in his sides, as long as it meant she was alive.

At some point, after Alfie and Tommy exchanged words, Solomons left, and they spent the whole night and early morning like that, tangled in one another until Y/N was no longer cold or more appropriately would snap her tongue off if she so much as opened her mouth. She still couldn’t speak despite how Alfie had cleaned and stitched the wound in her neck, but she could write.

Alfie had brought a pen and paper upon Tommy’s request so they could communicate and the first and only word she scribbled was “home”.

“We’ll go home soon,” Tommy promised. “Arthur’s just… taking care of a few things.”

To that Y/N just nodded; she didn’t need any more explanations.

She took the pencil again and flipped to a new page. “Alfie has shitty sheets.”

Tommy chuckled, tightening the grip he had around Y/N’s waist. “He does, doesn’t he? You’d think the fucker could afford silk by now. Did he even change them before he put you in the bed?”

She just smiled and nuzzled closer to Tommy pressing her no longer cold nose to his chest and breathing in his scent, as he cradled her nape.

Y/N could hear the rapid thuds of his heart. When he'd first joined her in the bed, it'd been racing like one of his horses, stuttering and trying to find a beat, but now it was a steady song, matching her own.

No longer were they afraid.

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @m-a-t-91 @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @lestersglitterglue @im-squished @strangersstranger

Thomas Shelby tags: @datewithgianni @captivatedbycillianmurphy @screemqueen @mrsmalfoyshelby @theamuz @lyarr24

A/N: sooo, it's been a while, hasn't it? Just wanted to drop something for the upcoming Valentines :)

P.S. hope you liked this :)

P.S.S. please don’t plagiarise my work and repost it/ translate it on other platforms (wattpad etc). re-blogs are very welcome

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spongeyspot · 5 months

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Toxic Traits/Red Flags HC

Characters: Arthur, Javier, John, Lenny, Dutch, Micah, Charles, Sean, Hosea, Mary Beth, Abigail, Tilly, Karen, Sadie, Molly

(A/N): WE WERE JUST TALKING ABOUT THIS DAWG. I LOVED @cowboyfromh3ll 's take on that shit sm and these hcs have literally been swimming in my head for weeeeeeeeks bro

Edit: some of these were kinda hard because there's not a lot of bad in the characters themselves... I had trouble with specifically Charles, Lenny, Mary Beth, and Tilly. Sorry if they may be OOC. IM EVEN DOING THE GIRLS BECAUSE IM IN A SILLY GOOFY MOOD

Content Warning: female reader, jealousy, self hate, narcissism, gaslighting, physical abuse, verbal abuse, mental abuse, mentions of murder and violence, mentions of infidelity, mentions of sex (Sean, Micah, Sadie kind of) (MINORS DNI)

Not edited btw

The boys

Arthur Morgan

- Honestly, I feel like Arthur would have this insane, crippling fear of rejection, especially when it comes to dating. - His self hate/deprecation plays a huge part in this, and quite honestly, him and Mary not working out probably also probably contributed to it. - Very emotionally distant. Has a hard time expressing his feelings openly due to that same fear of rejection.🚩 - Bottles shit up until he feels like he's gonna explode 🚩 - His impulse control is almost nonexistent 🚩 - Will resort to saying things that he doesn't even mean. He just says things when he's angry🚩 - Will hate himself even more if he makes you cry - Won't hesitate to run away from camp for a while to cool off. This isn't necessarily a bad thing per se, but he usually takes his time away to overthink the fuck out of everything - Prone to acting violent. (not to someone he cared about, but to other people, absolutely)Also due to his poor impulse control. 🚩

Javier Escuella

- Has a flirty personality, but around women, it just seems to get worse. 🚩 - Tells you you're overreacting if you tell him it bothers you🚩 - Overprotective of you. Always has his eyes on you, and practically orders you to stay in camp where it's safe. - As if you step one foot outside the camp without him, you'll spontaneously drop dead - Jealous asf. Are you laughing at what Bill just said? It wasn't even that funny. Why are you standing so close to him? You should be at least 6 feet away from him, not 5 and a half. 🚩 - Also has a problem with how you dress sometimes. God forbid your shirt is ever low cut. He'd probably ask you to change. 🚩 - And if you get offended or upset, he'll lie and tell you it's because he can't stop staring at your chest, and he'd like to focus of whatever it was he was doing.🚩

John Marston

- Stubborn as all hell. Doesn't listen to anybody for anything.🚩 - Commitment issues up the ass - Says mean things out of anger and sometimes actually means them 🚩 - Won't apologize half the time. He thinks kissing it better actually makes it better 🚩 - Regularly ignores his own bad habits instead of actually facing them 🚩 - Will run away from problems like Arthur, but worse. He'd be gone a really long time.🚩 - Gets annoyed with you if you get angry at him for leaving and staying away for a while. He told you he needed space, didn't he? What else do you need from him?? 🚩 - Ignorantly clueless half the time. Head empty, no thoughts.

Lenny Summers

- Not assertive in the slightest, and usually, respectfully, keeps to himself. -Takes orders without verbal complaints but inside he's annoyed as fuck 🚩 - Even if he hates doing something he'll probably just go "Okay" and do it anyway, and he'll sulk all day afterwards - Refuses to tell you what's wrong because he thinks he'll sound childish.🚩 - If you push the issue, he might snap at you out of annoyance like "Would you just let it be??" - Immediately feels guilty and shameful, and he'll hide away until he's ready to apologize and face you again - Also kind of a know-it-all... He'll correct you a LOT. It would get annoying 🚩 - Would blatantly tell you you're wrong before correcting you🚩 - Not necessarily an asshole about it but he still tends to get under your skin sometimes

Dutch Van Der Linde

- The BIGGEST Narcissist you'll ever meet.🚩 -He loses another piece of his mental state with every breath he takes. Slowly but surely losing his mind.🚩 - King of gaslighting🚩 - How could you even think that about him? He could never do anything wrong! You must be crazy...🚩 - Tries to recite his "pretty words" from Evelyn Miller to try and sound smarter than he actually is 🚩 - Expects you to just feed his ego without him actually doing anything to earn it🚩 - Will try to correct you even when he's wrong🚩 - Refuses to admit he's wrong. He can never be wrong. That word isn't even in his vocabulary unless he's talking about literally anyone but himself🚩

Micah Bell

- Where do I even start with this guy - Not above putting his hands on you if he doesn't get his way. Let's be honest here.🚩 - Mega Narccisist, almost as bad as Dutch 🚩 - Will brag and share every sexual encounter you've ever had with him like he's talking about the weather🚩 - VERY prone to Violence 🚩 - NO impulse control. Murders people for fun.🚩 - Backhanded and borderline abusive compliments 24/7 "You'd look so good if you weren't so fucking fat..." 🚩 - Selfish lover. Thinks just sticking it in will do the trick, and it does, for him at least.🚩 - Little to no affection. What are you? His girlfriend? Wait...🚩 -If he actually does show you affection, and you react in surprise, he'll tell you to go fuck yourself, and that that's the last time he ever does anything nice for you.🚩

Charles Smith

- Impossible to read sometimes - Like Arthur, Charles tends to keep a lot of his emotions bottled up until he feels like he's gonna pop 🚩 - Like most of the men in the Van Der Linde gang, Charles is also prone to acting violently. I mean, he started a bar fight with a fucking chair, and he fights in street fighting rings, let's be real for a second.🚩 - He's incredibly quiet and reserved a lot of the time, and sometimes you just assume that he's listening to you when you talk, but a lot of the time, he's lost in his own thoughts. - Will do everything anyone asks him to at the expense of his own free time and energy, and sometimes he works himself to exhaustion just to try and please everyone.🚩 - In doing so, he sometimes doesn't have time for himself at the end of the day. It also seems like you spend time together less and less as the days go on. - If he ever got himself hurt and you tried to help him, he'd decline any help with anything to save his own pride. The last thing he needs is you thinking he's weak. 🚩 - Extremely Overprotective. Like to the point where he'd beat the shit out of anybody you asked him to🚩

Sean Macguire

- An Alcoholic🚩 - horny 99% of the time, but half that time he probably has whiskey dick. Still asks you to try but doesn't understand that it's like trying to play pool with a rope... - If he can manage to be sober enough to actually get it up, and you're not in the mood, he'd get pissy and annoyed with you for "wasting his boner" 🚩 - Will probably also brag about having sex with you to everyone🚩 - Needy as all hell - Bro sulks on purpose - Low key loves the attention you give him when you continue to ask him what's wrong, but he never actually tells you and constantly says "I'm fine..." or "It's nothing..." 🚩 - But then sighs dramatically and continues sulking and dragging his feet so you keep giving him more attention 🚩

Hosea Matthews

- Ignores his physical health until he's practically dying. You've told him to get that cough looked at for literal years and he just says "I will" and does nothing 🚩 - sometimes talks to you as if you're a child especially if he's around Dutch -low key gaslights you sometimes 🚩 - and he says it with such a gentle tone, its hard to catch it 🚩

The girls

Mary Beth Gaskill

- Daydreams way too much - Likes to live in her romance novel fantasy land rather than face reality 🚩 - Cries a lot - Tries to be angry but can't help but cry instead - If crying makes you feel bad for her, she'll probably do it on purpose so you comfort her and give her attention🚩 -If you're in a fight, she'll turn on the crocodile tears to get you to stop being angry with her or whatever it is you're arguing about.🚩

Abigail Roberts

- She can be verbally abusive if she's pushed far enough 🚩 - Holds in a lot of her emotions🚩 - Neglectful of her own personal needs to make sure you or Jack are fully provided or cared for🚩 - a lot of the time, when she's upset with you, you're probably given the cold shoulder and the silent treatment - incredibly protective. Not necessarily a bad thing, but she can sometimes be super overbearing.

Tilly Jackson

- Tells it how she sees it, sometimes accidentally sounding a lot colder than she means to 🚩 - Too sarcastic for her own good 🚩 - Laughs a little too much sometimes when you tell a joke, and you can often tell it's actually incredibly fake🚩 - gets irritated really easily, especially if she's bothered while doing her chores. The last thing she needs is Grimshaw on her ass again.🚩 - irritable a lot of the time, unintentionally becoming short or snapping at you - like john, she also believes that kissing it better is better than actually apologizing

Karen Jones

- An alcoholic 🚩 - picks fights with you for fun, finds it entertaining to see how red your face can get from anger 🚩 - Screaming matches are a regular occurance between you guys, and she starts it almost every time 🚩 - Pretty jealous when it comes to the opposite sex🚩 - Has self doubt and believes that she can't give you everything a man probably could

Sadie Adler

- The nosiest woman in America. No chill. She reads everyone's mail. - Makes a lot of loose threats 🚩 - Anger issues🚩 - Low impulse control🚩 - Can be a little too rough sometimes 🚩 - If she's upset with you, she'll either yell or storm off. Sometimes both. 🚩 -(She tends to walk away a lot more often because she's actuall self aware that her anger issues are a problem) - She'd never admit that to you though.

Molly O'Shea

- Even more jealous than Javier🚩 - Glares at and envies anyone you talk to that isn't her🚩 - Has immaginary conversations with people in her head🚩 - Rubbing her hands together when the real life conversations are following the script she had planned out in her brain - Needs constant reassurance - "D'you even love me anymore?!"🚩 - Overthinks everything 🚩 - Paranoid as hell about infidelity - Gets mad at you when she dreams about you cheating on her🚩

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extremelyblackandwhite · 8 months

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pairing: dad!bucky barnes x au pair!reader

warnings: age gap (reader is 10 years younger than bucky), smut (18+, dni if under 18)

author’s note: sorry for the delay folks xx

masterlist

now i wish we’d never met ‘cause you’re too hard to forget while i’m cleaning up your mess i know he’s taking off your dress and i know that you don’t but if i ask you if you love me i hope you lie to me

Bucky Barnes was a great many things, a paradox in a single man, many opposite things to different people. For some he was an angel, charity driven and ready to sacrifice himself for everything and everyone. For others, he was a demon, someone who was power driven, filled with the need for success and stepping on anyone he needed to be the first and the best. No matter what both thought, all agreed on one thing - Bucky Barnes was one hell of a charmer. He’d gotten that from his mother - old high class British charm, his father used to say. That combined with his looks made him irresistible to most people. Everyone flocked to him, everyone except for Y/N. She’d vanished from his side a bit later into the night and he hadn’t seen her since. Each time he thought to look for her, someone would need him or catch his attention.

Even with all that, he couldn’t find her. Y/N was an eye catching woman, she was beautiful and if she were anywhere near he would’ve found her. Instead, she was nowhere to be found and he was starting to get annoyed. He wanted to spend the evening with her, or at least he had intended to spend the evening with her, introducing her to the right people who could help her. He continued listening to whoever was talking to him right now - truth was, he wasn’t even sure who that person was. He just usually smiled and kept up simple talks, that was what was required of him so he would gladly keep doing it as long as it yielded results.

As for Y/N, she had almost forgotten who she was here with. Christopher Davis was someone who she always could picture herself with. He was smart, well spoken, well mannered and seemed to have an interest on her. Besides, he had gone through the same thing as her back at Columbia.

- I’m just saying Professor Williams is a pain. - Chris laughed as Y/N explained what her supervisor had said. - If Professor Anderson likes you then you must be a bright student.

- Or maybe I’m just really daft.

- I don’t think so. - he smiled. - Sergeant Barnes doesn’t employ someone who doesn’t have promise.

- Except I don’t work for him ... I mean, not like you work for him, I’m just an au pair. I reckon the only criteria was are you a threat and are you good with children.

- How is it working with Sergeant Barnes if you don’t mind me asking?

Chris looked at her and then back at James whom he didn’t notice had been staring them down until now. He sighed, putting on his best smile, after all, he was trying to impress this girl.

- He’s uptight and a bit controlling but I guess you have to be if you want things to run smoothly. Specially when you work in advertising.

- That’s most CEOs isn’t it?

- Yes but James Barnes is .. different. Sorry, I don’t mean to sound like a disgruntled employee.

- That is fine. Sergeant Barnes has got me on my nerves every once and again?

- Is that so? - Y/N felt the blood drain from her face as she turned around to face her boss. She wasn’t afraid of him per say, but she also knew, she just knew he would probably be pissy for the rest of the evening. - Good evening Y/N, Mr. Davis.

- I will see you tomorrow, Y/N. - Chris smiled at the au pair.

To say Y/N was over the moon was a massive understatement. He liked her, at least she thought he liked her enough to invite her out. She didn’t think she still had it within her, she was usually busy looking over Sadie or with her postgraduate studies - that didn’t give her enough time to think about her sex and love life. That being said, maybe that explained why she was having the weird dreams and fantasies about James; familiarity. Right? It had to be that.

Bucky on the other hand felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. Chris was ... well, he didn’t know that much about Chris other than he came from money yet he couldn’t even blame him from that since he had come from money as well. He was just boring, Bucky found him boring. He didn’t take risks, at least not enough risks for someone who worked at advertising. He played it safe. It worked, but it wasn’t revolutionary. Still, Bucky didn’t like him. He definitely didn’t like him for Y/N either. Y/N was smart, innovative, caring and another bunch of positive adjectives which were too long to list. Chris was just boring.

- So how’s that lady? - Y/N broke the silence between the two of them, a bit tipsy on the champagne which she wasn’t used to drinking.

- What lady?

- Delilah? - she looked up through her dizzy, tipsy mind, before snapping her fingers. - Delia. Yeah, that’s her name. How is Delia?

- You would know if you weren’t busy flirting with my employees.

- Oh so you can flirt but I can’t?

- Not when you’re with me. You’re embarrassing yourself and humiliating me.

- But I’m not here with you, am I, sergeant? I am not your date, am I?

- No. - he smiled forcefully. - However if I were going to flirt with someone I would pick someone less boring.

- You work in advertising, Sergeant. Everyone is boring.

(...)

Bucky had never spent a whole night alone with Sadie, not when she was awake. Yet, here he was, left behind by his au pair so she could go and date boring Chris while he had to deal with a very hyper Sadie who was running around as if it wasn’t 8 o’clock yet. He usually had a babysitter or he had Y/N, or Steve yet right now he was by his lonesome. He thought she would’ve settled down if he played princesses, yet, she did not. Instead Bucky now had knotted hair, glitter on his face and probably some on his eye and permanent marker on his neck. He had finally given up and done the worse thing in the eyes of every parenting book - he’d given her a tablet loaded with all the Bluey seasons. Meanwhile he’d taken to watching re-runs of Mad Men.

- Bed? - he asked the curly haired ginger who looked up at him, her hair in front of her face. - I’ll give you 10 dollars?

- No. - she replied before looking back at her tablet. Bucky sighed, looking up at the ceiling. Soon the terrible twos would be done and he’d have the terrifying threes.

- 20 dollars? - he said once again but she ignored him. He sighed, how come Y/N managed to do this? - Sadie, you can either go to bed or you can be tired tomorrow and not go to the park with Y/N. Choose.

She looked at him with the death stare which she had inherited from him, but eventually got up, grabbing his hand. Bucky smiled, picking her up and walking to her bedroom. He pushed the sheets from her bed, carefully rolling her to her mattress before tucking her in, handing her a Bingo plushie.

- You want a story, babe? - he asked her, brushing her curls away from her forehead. - No?

- Light?

- I’ll turn your little moonlight on. - he kissed her forehead. - I love you, Sisi bug.

She smiled at him and it was enough for him to know she meant she loved him too. He tucked her once more before turning off the main light, leaving the room softly lit by the nightlight. Slowly and softly he went up the stairs, grabbing a wick basket and started collecting toys onto it. She had too many toys, still he wouldn’t stop buying them. As he finished it, Bucky sat back down on the couch. He was annoyed. Why did she even go out with that prick? The only thing they had in common was an alma matter and god knows Chris was a legacy student so it wasn’t like he tried as hard to get into university like Y/N had. God, he hated him. Hated how bland and boring he was.

He toyed around with the remote, trying to find something that would get his head out of the idea of goddamn Christopher Davis trying to get her out of the practically translucent dress she had been wearing. Bucky could swear she did it on purpose, just to show off to him in those strap heels and short sheer black dress like a temptress. He changed channels once more, hoping he’d find something ... maybe a pay per view porn channel or something. Yet nothing took his mind of his au pair, his employee who he should have some professionalism with, and that stupid lacy bra he could make out under that dress. Dressing up like that for goddamn Davis.

He stared at his phone, watching as hours passed yet nothing fulfilled. Eventually, Bucky made a mistake, a huge, massive mistake. A mistake which fulfilled itself as he opened the door to show Delia. He handled things badly but right now he needed his fill.

His lips attacked hers as they stumbled towards the bedroom, Bucky locking the door behind him. This was a bad habit, a terrible habit but her lips felt good, her taste was tempting and Bucky wasn’t the one to have good habits. However, today, things were ... different. Her lips leaving lipstick marks on his neck didn’t feel the same. Maybe this was a mistake. He shouldn’t really have a woman in the house when his daughter was asleep upstairs.

- Are you alright? - Delia pulled away from him.

Bucky blinked, he had to be going ... stir crazy. Maybe he’d drank a bit too much whiskey but her features morphed and he could swear that in place of the woman he usually called whenever he needed release, stood the woman he wanted to be here now. The sheer dress a vivid memory in the back of his mind. He ignored her question, moving to kiss her neck and putting his hand over her mouth. His fantasies took full front stage as his mind drew a different reality.

All he could see was her, red lips open wide with soft, high pitched moaned as he kissed down her body, doing away with her dress and her underwear. He wanted to mark her, he wanted to mark this vision of a woman he craved. His hands found the top of his joggers, pushing it down as if he were a horny mess. His cock was painfully hard, slapping against his stomach as he stood over her, this vision of Y/N. All he could think of were all the times she saw her, the outline of her breasts, her collarbones. He didn't pace himself, instead lining up with the woman's entrance before he gripped her hips and slide himself in, without much a second of though. The feeling made him grown, he was insane he reckoned, insane because he knew this wasn't her but all he could see is her. The soft moans, the contracted muscles. He fucked her hard and rough until he felt his release approach. Once he did, he slide himself off, jerking off and coming on her stomach, rolling to the side of the bed. He stared at the ceiling fan of the guest bedroom, his mind lulling him back to reality ... all he could think when that moment was once simple thing - Fuck Chris Davis.

(...)

Y/N didn’t spend the night. He noticed that in the morning as he was getting prepared from work and saw her walk in, with her dress crimped and hair barely brushed. His blood bubbled. If she wanted to fuck old money, she could’ve fucked him.

- Had your release? - he knew he was being mean now, just looking to stir the pot. - Fun night?

- Why? Need some new jerking off material? - she crossed her arms, speaking in a manner and language that almost made him spit his coffee. - Who’s taking Sadie to school?

- Well, if you can still walk I’d say he did a pretty shit job, huh?

- I guess I’m taking Sadie to school. - she rolled her eyes. - And it’s none of your business.

- Well my employee is fucking another one of my employees. Maybe you should go to HR.

- Maybe I should and tell them that the boss is acting like an ass. Are you seriously still upset at me that I flirted with someone at your weird benefit? I’m single, I’m allowed to flirt!

- Not with Chris Davis. Seriously, Y/N, get a better taste in men.

- Because you have such a great taste in women. - she poured herself a cup of coffee. - Since you’re dressed, maybe you should take Sadie to school and see your favourite ego boosting group the PTA mums.

- Maybe I will.

- Picking Sadie up from school or do you want me to?

- Steve’s picking her up.

- Steve?

Steve.

////////////////////////////////////

taglist : @talesofadragon @themermaidscales82 @winters1917 @vladsgirlxx

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan/y/n #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan imagine #bucky #bucky barnes #bucky/reader #bucky x reader #bucky/you #bucky x you #bucky/y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #bucky smut

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i-am-a-bad-influence-writes · 1 month

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Gossip

Masterlist Word count: 550 Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader

Summary: You know that John likes you. You know that Arthur likes you. They know about each other, but the others don't. Gossip spreads and, what feels like a ticking time bomb, turns out to be unconnected.

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'I don't think he knows,' Abigail says as she sits, knitting with Mary-Beth and Tilly while watching you and Arthur talk. John has gone out hunting with Charles to learn how to use a bow as he is useless with it. Arthur had asked Charles to do so but Abigail suspects he had other motives for getting John away from camp. 'I think he does,' Tilly argues with a grin, 'why else would he ask Charles? Everyone knows John is too impatient to learn how to use a bow.' She's got a point, Abigail figures. Things had been weird ever since you joined the gang. Sadie had found you in Valentine and recognized you as an old friend. In fact, the friend who set her up with her husband. She told the others you seemed lost and needed some place where people have your back. Most were sceptical but your turned out to be a hard worker and a great hunter, bringing in huge game for the camp whenever you went out. Dutch had almost considered letting you take a wagon along so you could bring enough to sell it. That great aim of yours also pulled in different attention. Both John and Arthur became more than smitten with your friendly and kind demeanour. Mary-Beth had suggested that Arthur liked you for your kindness and willingness to listen while John liked you for your viciousness and rough edges. Both great attributes that make you who you are. 'Well, either way, they're both fools,' Mary-Beth claims, ending the argument. 'Do you think she knows,' Tilly questions. 'For sure she knows,' Mary-Beth answers as all of them watch you gently touch Arthur's shoulder as he makes a joke not worthy of the laughter that comes out of you. 'She's really toying with them, ain't she,' Abigail grumbles. Despite liking you quite a bit, she fears what it might do to the gang if Arthur and John are pinned against each other. It's a bad predicament to be in and since the year that John left the gang is still a sore spot for Arthur, Abigail fears things might explode with the littlest of meddling. When her and John put an end to it, she was slightly relieved, but this is just insanity.

'Do you think they know,' Arthur questions you. You shake your head with a grin. 'No, they probably think I'm hopping between you two. They wouldn't be gossiping about us as much if they knew.' 'Fair point.' He puts a gentle hand on your waist to pull you closer and watches at the jaws drop across camp. 'Are you trying to rile them up, cowboy,' you tease as you take a step closer to him. He shrugs. You roll your eyes and press a kiss to his jaw. 'Come on, let's go join Charles and John.' Arthur looks over at the women once more as he leans towards you. 'If only they knew about Charles.' You shove him away with a laugh. 'Oh, stop it. I liked you better when you were still being shy about liking me.'

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beyondthesefourwalls · 7 months

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This Love Came Back to Me (12)

Summary: You and Bradley hadn’t ended on bad terms; really, you stopped before the two of you could even truly begin. Still, in the last seven months, you had never completely left his mind. So when you suddenly appeared in front of him at the bar, asking for a favor and pulling him into a kiss, he thought maybe it was the perfect opportunity to see if this time, things could be different. But what neither of you realized was that there’s more going on than just rekindling a lost romance, and it might not be as easy as simply just wanting it.

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: second chance romance, language, smut and allusions of smut, stalking, breaking and entering, unhealthy obsessions, delusions of feelings, unwanted attention.

Part Twelve Word Count: 6K

Part Eleven :: Series Masterlist

----

You felt almost hungover waking up on Monday morning, but you supposed that was to be expected after a week away. The relaxation you felt in the mountains was slowly but surely coiling back up to a thick cord of tension, made only easier by the man beside you. You were meeting Sadie for coffee near her office that morning, and he held your hand in his the entire drive, singing along to his 80’s playlist softly under his breath.

The tall, dark haired woman greeted you both warmly with a vibrant pink folder in her hand. You tried not to be annoyed at how your name was written on the label. Your whole life and this whole situation was shrunk down to what would fit on a few pieces of 8.5 x 11 inch paper. It was a strange, unsettling feeling.

Bradley let you do most of the talking, a supportive hand on your knee. The woman his best friend was besotted with read through the texts he had saved and all that had come in yesterday with a critical eye.

“Well,” she said, a touch of sarcasm etched in her tone, “he’s certainly not doing himself any favors, is he?” Sadie flipped through the folder, pausing to jot down notes on one of the blank forms. She set her pen down when she was done, leaning back in her chair and sipping on her coffee. "If we can prove that he's been harassing you, I think we have a shot at the restraining order. I know it was disappointing not to get the emergency order, but that doesn’t mean you won’t get it when we go to court, okay?"

You nodded slowly, trying to grasp onto the hope she was dangling in front of you. “Do we know when that is?”

“We should hear something this week about a date, and he’ll be served the papers once a date is set.”

Your breath hitched slightly at the thought of that happening, and Bradley must have caught it, because he squeezed your knee in reassurance before he started talking. “So what does she do between now and then?”

From across the table, Sadie shrugged and gave you a smile you knew was meant to be reassuring. She addressed you directly in her answer. “If he continues to reach out to you, document it all, but don’t respond to him. If you see him, try not to engage. Don’t give him a reason to think any of it is consensual or that you’re encouraging it. And I know it may be hard, but other than that…just try and live your life as normally as you can. I’ll handle the legal stuff. You focus on you.”

You snapped the hair tie on your wrist once you were back in the passenger seat of the Bronco. You stared out the window as Bradley drove through mid-morning San Diego traffic toward one of the retail districts nearby, mulling over everything Sadie had said. She had been so insistent that this wasn’t your fault, and that you had a solid case, despite the judge’s first glance at your application not being enough. It felt good knowing you had someone in your corner like her, who knew the ins and outs of this kind of process.

But your eyebrows furrowed as you thought about what she said about documenting every time he reached out to you and how it could ultimately help. You glanced down at the phone sitting in the cupholder. You had blocked every number Paul had contacted you from. You had even taken the initiative in blocking his email account, too. You were en route to get a new phone number. Now, though, you were wondering if you had jumped the gun in all of that.

You liked to believe that getting a brand new number would mean that Paul wouldn’t be able to reach you. But if him reaching you could ultimately help you, to provide you with something tangible to use to take action against him….

You took a deep breath. You couldn’t believe it had gotten to the point where you were really considering letting this happen.

Bradley reached across the seat to squeeze your hand, startling you. You were so lost in thought that you hardly noticed that he had pulled into a parking space in front of the cell phone carrier store. He must have clocked the change in your expression when you turned to look at him by the way his changed, too.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. You tried to figure out how to articulate what it was that you were feeling without making it seem like you had lost it completely.

“Is this the best idea?” you finally settled on, and when your boyfriend asked you what you meant, you pushed forward. “Sadie said that anything he does can be used against him, to help prove he’s been…” you cut yourself off as the word popped in your head. It had been said earlier, and you knew deep down that’s exactly what it was. But saying that S word made it that much realer to you, and you couldn’t bring yourself to do it just yet. “To help prove he’s been doing everything he has. And if..If I disconnect my number, isn’t that almost like, I don’t know, getting rid of an opportunity?”

He didn’t respond right away, but his grip on your hand tightened just the tiniest bit, and the thumb on his other hand tapped a quick rhythm against the steering wheel he was still holding. Those thick eyebrows of his that you loved so much furrowed together as he processed your jumbled explanation of feelings. Finally, he let go of your hand and reached to take the keys out of the ignition, killing the engine. He nodded toward the store in front of you.

“Let’s go inside. I have an idea.”

He was out of the Bronco before you could protest, and you hurried after him, confused. He held his hand out to you from the sidewalk.

“Bradley, what are we doing?” you asked, tugging him to a stop before you could get to the door of the store. He looked at you with what you could only describe as a determined look, touched with something close to desperation.

“Just trust me, okay? And please don’t say no.”

His words left you even more confused, but there was something about his eyes and the feeling he was emanating that you couldn’t help but nod.

He held the door open for you and you were approached by a salesman almost immediately, and before you could say anything when he asked if there was something he could help you with, Bradley was speaking up.

“I was hoping to add a new phone and number to my plan.”

“Of course. What’d you have in mind?”

He looked down to you with that same determined look on his face, but it was softer now. His smile was small but reassuring, and he squeezed the hand still held in his.

“Pick out what you want.”

“B….”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, and you could hear the words he spoke into your hair, only for you. “This way you can keep the other one on but not have to worry about dealing with it. Because you’re right, it could be useful. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you put up with the stress of seeing it everyday. Please, Bug. Let me do this for you.”

You knew how much Bradley cared for you, but this was a big gesture. You had never been one to accept help easily, especially not financially, and part of you felt that getting a new phone on his plan would be too much. It took you a moment, but eventually, you swallowed the protest that was ready on your lips. When you nodded, you both felt and heard the sigh of relief that he let out.

You knew how supportive of your independence he was, but you wondered if sometimes what he needed was for you to let him do things like this.

Picking something out was fairly simple, just going with an upgraded version of what you already had. You stood together at the counter as everything was set up and added, Bradley signing the necessary paperwork. You wrapped both your arms around one of his, pressing a kiss into his clothed bicep. You let your eyes flutter closed and breathed in the scent of him. He always had a way of calming your nerves and making you feel safe, even in the midst of chaos. You weren’t really sure what you did to deserve him, but you wanted to hold onto him forever.

____

Sadie called you on Thursday, about an hour before you were scheduled for a phone interview for the job you were crossing your fingers for, to let you know that your court date had been set for 3 weeks out. You spent the next thirty minutes trying to breathe through the panic that settled on your chest like a semi-truck. Tears stung in your eyes, wondering how the hell your life had gotten to this point. Then your phone buzzed with a text from Bradley, and you couldn’t help the watery laugh that escaped you.

Bradley🐓✈️❤️: You got this, baby! Proud of you. Have a great interview.

He always had a way of knowing exactly when you needed him, even if he didn’t realize it. You wanted to tell him about the court date, to seek that additional comfort that you knew he would provide you without question. But you remembered what both he and Sadie had told you earlier in the week, about living as normally as possible, and you knew they were right. You couldn’t let this ruin the possibilities in front of you. You wouldn’t.

You typed out a response as you forced some of the anxiety out, taking exaggerated breaths to combat it until eventually, it worked.

I love you, B.

Bradley🐓✈️❤️: Love you, Bug. Go get ‘em.

Despite the feelings that had threatened to overwhelm you right before the interview, you did go get ‘em, just like Bradley had said. You got an email about coming in for an in person interview less than two hours after you had hung up the phone, and it was the following Friday that found you sitting on the couch, waiting for Bradley to get home. You were practically vibrating with excitement by the time he finally walked through the door. He didn’t even get a chance to take his keys out of the lock before you were jumping up.

“I got the job!” you blurted out.

Bradley looked startled for a second, no doubt at how sudden and loud you spoke, and his forehead crinkled like he wondered what you were talking about before it clicked. His dark eyes widened and a grin started making its way onto his face as he dropped his bag and hurried to where you were standing in the living room of the apartment. “You got it?”

You nodded rapidly, your giddy smile so large that it was making your cheeks hurt. “I got it.”

Bradley yelled your name in excitement right before he swept you off your feet. You giggled as he spun you around, feeling weightless in his strong arms. “I knew you could do it!” Eventually, he set you down, but he didn’t let you go far. He pulled you flush against him in a tight embrace.

"I'm so proud of you, Bug," he said, his voice conveying just how truthful he was being. “You deserve this.”

You leaned into him, feeling safe and loved and happy in his arms. "Thank you,” you murmured, accepting the kiss that he placed on your lips.

“We should celebrate,” he said. “Order in something delicious? Open another bottle of wine we got in San Bernardino?”

That sounded lovely, and you absolutely wanted to do that. But aside from the meeting with Sadie almost two weeks ago and the in person interview that you had two days prior, you hadn’t left Bradley’s apartment since you got back from the cabin. You were hiding away, whether you admitted it or not. You didn’t want to do that anymore.

“Let’s go out.”

If Bradley was surprised, he didn’t show it. He didn’t ask if you were sure, or if you thought it was a good idea. He searched your eyes for nothing more than a moment before he was squeezing your hip and nodding.

He trusted you enough to know that if you said it’s what you wanted, you meant it. And that meant more than you could ever say.

You enjoyed dinner out at one of your favorite Mexican restaurants, sipping a margarita and eating your weight in chips and queso and spicy tacos. Bradley sat close to you in the booth, finishing off your plate when you couldn’t eat anymore, and you spent the entire meal laughing and flirting with one another like a regular date should be. And when you were done, you made your way to the Hard Deck. You had shot off a text to some of your friends while Bradley did the same to his before dinner, and you were ecstatic when you spotted Anna already amongst the rest of the aviators. You met her with a hug, and when she introduced you to her boyfriend, you were pleasantly surprised when Bradley already seemed to know him.

“We’ve been deployed together before. He’s a good guy,” he told you once the two had made their way over to the bar for refills, and you couldn’t help the smile on your face at how things seemed to be falling into place.

You greeted the rest of Bradley’s friends with the same enthusiasm, genuinely glad to see them.You hugged Jake and Javy a little harder, whispering a soft thank you to them. You had never gotten the opportunity to do so after they had went and got your car out of that parking lot all those weeks ago, but both of them just shrugged it off like it was nothing. You knew that everyone probably was aware of what was going on with you, at least to a certain extent, but you appreciated so much how they didn’t seem to look or treat you any differently than they had before.

Bradley slipped a drink into your hand as you mingled with both of your friends. He was a warm presence at your back, his arm wrapped around you with one of his fingers hooked into the belt loop at the front of your jeans. You tilted your head back to look at him with a smile, and he clinked the rim of his beer bottle against the side of your glass. “Here’s to you, baby,” he murmured into your ear, and you couldn’t stop the shiver that went through your body. When Jake and Bob roped him into a game of pool at the tables not too far away a few minutes later, he pressed a kiss to the side of your head before walking off.

You spent some time with Anna and her boyfriend, and talked with Mickey about the latest true crime documentary that you both had watched. It was after your dart had literally embedded itself into the wall when you were playing with Javy that you said you needed a break. There were tears in your eyes from how hard you were laughing, and your cheeks were starting to hurt from the permanent smile that had been on your face all night. Bradley was still enthralled at the pool table, so with a look in his direction, you headed to the bar by yourself for another refill. It wasn’t long before a shoulder was bumping into yours. When you looked over, you smiled in recognition at the dark haired woman beside you. You had greeted her earlier, but hadn’t really had the time for conversation before you were both pulled in opposite directions.

“How are you?” Sadie asked. You thought about your day for a moment, how light and at ease you felt.

“I’m good,” you answered honestly, “It’s been a really great day.”

“I heard Bradley tell Natasha that you got that new job you were vying for - congratulations! You deserve it.”

You felt the excitement hit you all over again at her words, and you knew your smile must look ridiculous at this point as you thanked her.

“I’m glad to finally have something else, you know? This new place genuinely seems great, and it comes with a lot of opportunity.”

“Better than the toxic mess you’re at now?”

You snorted, and it said a lot that not even the mention of your current job brought down your mood. Instead you tilted the freshly refilled glass in your hand in her direction. She set a hand on your wrist for a moment, and you could sense by the look in her eye that she was going to bring up something else about that situation before she even spoke.

“Paul was successfully served his papers about you petitioning for a restraining order,” she told you, and you felt your breath hitch. She heard it too and shook her head. “This is a good thing. It means we’re one step closer to stopping him for good. That’s something to celebrate, too.”

You considered her words for a moment, and you weren’t sure if it was the drinks or just the energy of the night, but you found that part of you actually agreed with her. The mention of his name didn’t immediately make you feel like you were going to spiral, or stir up the same helpless feelings it normally did. Surprisingly, you didn’t feel much of anything at all. You were indifferent in a way that you hadn’t been before. So when Penny slid Sadie her own new drink, you raised your glass to hers, and you toasted to getting this whole thing over with.

Not too much later, you wandered out through the side doors. It was getting hot inside the bar, and the cool night air was blissfully refreshing against your skin. It was surprisingly empty out on the deck, and you appreciated the solitude as you leant against the railing, looking out at the ocean. It was dark, but you could see the dark water and hear it crashing in the distance. You could still hear all the chatter and the juke box from inside the bar floating out, but it was muted, a reminder of where you were while still allowing you the peace and quiet.

The door opened behind you a minute later, and a smile tugged at your lips as Bradley’s deep, raspy voice filled your ears, alerting you to his presence.

“Hey, you. What are you doing out here?” he asked, wrapping his arms around you from behind once he made it to where you were standing. A content noise escaped your throat as you settled back into his chest and laid your own hands over his at your waist. “You doin’ okay?”

“I’m good,” you promised, “Just wanted some air. Was getting hot in there with all of those people.”

You knew he’d know enough to guess that meant it was both the physical temperature, as well as your tendency to need a break from large crowds. It got too much for you sometimes, and on occasion, you just needed a few minutes by yourself to recenter and finish out the night. He hummed in response, and you knew he understood.

You stood there together for a few long moments, not saying anything. You weren’t sure if it was a conscious movement, but he swayed your bodies slightly to the music floating out from inside the bar, some oldies tune that you weren’t sure the name of but you thought you had heard before - probably with him, no doubt. You relished just being in his arms like this. Eventually, though, he broke the peaceful silence.

“Sadie told me something earlier,” he said, and you could hear the hesitancy in his voice, like he wasn’t sure if he should have brought it up before. You made a hum of recognition, nodding your head without looking at him.

“Yeah, she told me too. About the papers.”

Bradley paused as he seemed to gather what it was he wanted to say, so you continued on before he stressed over it too much, squeezing his forearm. “It’s okay. Surprisingly, I felt nothing when she told me. She said it’s something to celebrate because we’re one step closer to getting all of this over with, and I think I agree with her. That has to count as progress, right?”

There was a beat of quiet as your words hung in the air before Bradley murmured your name softly. “Look at me?” he asked.

At his request, you turned to face him. Your arms wrapped around his neck and toyed with the hair on the back of his head like you loved to do. He looked at you with a soft smile, his eyes shining.

“I’m really proud of you, you know that?” he spoke gently, tucking some of your hair behind your ear and trailing his finger down your face. You could feel the heat of affection creep up at his words. You weren’t really sure how to respond. His pride meant a lot to you. Truthfully, everything he did meant a lot. He had always been there for you, even that first night when he had no idea what was going on. He was unwavering in his support and you knew you would be in a completely different situation right now if he wasn’t by your side. You needed him, more than you ever thought possible.

You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol lowering your inhibitions or the emotions hitting you all of a sudden, or maybe a combination of both, but you found yourself feeling bold, craving him in a way that made your heart race.

"Bradley," you whispered, almost like you wanted to share a secret with him. "Can I tell you something?"

"You can tell me anything," he replied, one hand slipping down your back and into the back pocket of your jeans as the other stayed on your face, his thumb rubbing your cheek softly.

"I love you so much," you said, feeling the words spill out of your mouth without thinking.

Bradley's smile grew wider, pink dusting his cheeks. "I love you too, Bug. More than anything."

Feeling emboldened by his words, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his. The kiss was soft at first, but quickly became more passionate as the heat between you intensified. You couldn't get enough of him, and it seemed like he felt the same way. His hands roamed over your body, pulling you closer before he backed the both of you up into the railing behind you. You moaned into his mouth, feeling your body react. It was like your nerve endings were on fire.

He pulled away, his breaths coming out in ragged pants as he looked down at you. His brown eyes were darkened with what was so blatantly desire, and you loved that he didn’t try to shy away from it.

“Bug…”

“I think I’d like to go home now,” you told him, your mind already made up. You pressed kisses into his jaw and down his neck as he groaned into the open night air.

“Yeah,” he rasped, squeezing your butt through your pants before lifting you into his arms. You squealed as your legs wrapped around his waist and he started toward the parking lot. You didn’t even think about needing to go and say goodbye to all of your friends. “Home sounds like a good idea.”

___

You weren’t slated to start at your new job until the following month, but Bradley convinced you that it wasn’t worth having any ties to the company that had caused all of the strife currently in your life for any longer. Your PTO was going to run out in the middle of the following week, and it was decided that you wouldn’t be going back at all. Not submitting a full two week notice was normally something that would make you feel guilty, but after the way they all treated you, you found you didn’t care all that much about how they would react. They were lucky you were going to do it in person to begin with.

“I still think you should just send an email,” Bradley told you, his voice ringing through your car’s bluetooth as you drove toward your soon to be old office. It was late on a Wednesday afternoon, so traffic was light.

“Dropping off my laptop and badge in person means I cut ties quicker,” you rebutted, just like you had done since you told him your plan. You had logged onto your work email last night just to put a meeting on Gretchen’s calendar for this afternoon, for the sole purpose of handing in your things and telling her you quit in person. You got a shot of amusement at imagining what her face was going to look like when you did.

Bradley had wanted to accompany you for all of it, had hated the idea of you going to the office without him, in fact, but he hadn’t been able to slip away from his own work. He had tried to get you to wait until the next day, but you were stubborn. You wanted to get this over with.

Bradley sighed on the other end, and you knew that was his concession. “Call me when you’re done?”

“Of course, B.”

Nerves twisted in your stomach as you made your way inside the building and pressed the button for the correct floor in the elevator. You took a deep, slow breath when the doors shut, trying to calm your beating heart. You weren’t sure why you were so nervous, but you supposed it was normal.

“You can do this,” you whispered to yourself. You cracked your neck and pushed your shoulders back when the elevator doors slid open, revealing the lobby you had become familiar with for the last year. You walked down the hallway with purpose, and you could feel stares as you did. You knew the majority of your team - Paul included - were in a meeting right now, based on the shared calendars you had taken a look at. But that didn’t mean others wouldn’t look just as hard. You knocked on Gretchen’s door with a firm fist, and she had barely started saying “come in” when you were twisting the knob and opening the door.

She sat behind her desk, her blonde hair as pinstraight as always, and a perfectly manicured nail tapped against her crossed arms. A single eyebrow was raised, and her face just screamed condescension. Any guilt you may have harbored left you as soon as you saw her, and you set your laptop and your badge on her desk with a clank.

“I quit.”

The unpleasant, sour look that Gretchen’s face twisted into stayed with you as you made your way from her office and over to HR, and then all the way back to the elevator, too. You were practically floating at how satisfied you felt. You were so proud of yourself, and so damn relieved for finally being done with this place. You had said your peace and then some, and now you were done. It was a long overdue feeling.

You pulled your phone out once you were in the elevator, and your grin was so persistently large that you thought it’d get stuck there. Bradley picked up almost immediately, and you were sure he had been waiting for your call.

“How’d it go?”

“Gretchen looked like a Warhead got stuck in her throat, and I have never felt so satisfied about causing those feelings in someone.”

Your boyfriend barked out a laugh on the other end, and the sound just made you smile wider. “She deserves it. I’m proud of you, baby.”

You didn’t think you would ever get tired of hearing his praise. It caused a warmth to spread through your whole entire body, and you were already ready to be back in his presence again. You got your keys out of your bag as you walked out of the building and into the parking lot. “Thanks, B. Are you still meeting me at the house?”

That had been the other part of your plan today. You were going to kill two birds with one stone and go to the house and pack up more of your stuff, as the end of your lease was rapidly approaching. Since he hadn’t been able to come with you, instead, you had agreed that he would meet you at the house after you left the office to help. You knew, also, that he didn’t like the idea of you being there on your own. Truthfully, you didn’t either, so you were glad for his insistence.

“I’m packing up to leave and head in that direction in the next five minutes.”

“Alright. I’m going to go to the store and grab some boxes and tape and stuff, and then I’ll head that way. You might beat me there.”

“That’s fine,” he assured you, and with how quick he said it, you were sure that was actually his preference. You felt yourself soften a little bit. You knew he hated not being with you right now.

“I’ll text you when I leave the store,” you promised him as you unlocked your car. “Hey, B?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

You pulled out of the parking lot once you had hung up with him, and you were so focused on the elation you had been feeling and what you needed to do that night, that you hadn’t even seen who else had been in the parking lot with you.

___

You didn’t spend any more time than necessary in the store, simply running in and grabbing what you needed. Your trunk and backseat were full of boxes and packing supplies, and you shot a text off to Bradley as you had promised once you slid into the front seat. He called you when you were pulling into the neighborhood.

“There was an accident or something on the freeway,” he told you, and you could hear the frustration in his voice. “Traffic’s backed up, so I’m still like 15 minutes out.”

“No worries,” you reassured him, “I’m almost there. I can get started.”

There was a pause on the other end of the phone, and Bradley sounded hesitant when he finally spoke again. “Bug…wait for me to go inside, please.”

“B…”

He must have heard the argument in your voice, because he was quick to continue, the words rushing out. “I know I’m probably just being paranoid and overprotective. But humor me, please? Just wait for me. I should be there soon.”

You pulled into the driveway that wouldn’t be yours for much longer and put the car in park. You knew where he was coming from. Truly, you did. You knew that he had every right to feel that way, and you felt warm at him wanting to protect you.

Bradley let out a sigh of relief when you finally murmured your agreement to stay put. “Thank you, baby. I’ll be there soon okay? I love you.”

“I love you too. See you in a few.”

You hung up the phone and rested your head back against the seat, figuring you might as well get comfortable. You scrolled through your social media aimlessly for a few minutes, but the longer you sat there, the more restless you became. You were eager to get inside and start packing. The quicker you did that, the quicker you would be able to get out of this place for good. A quick glance at your clock said that it was nearing 5pm now, and you knew that there was always a team meeting at this time that Paul would be in. There was no chance.

From when you hung up with him, you figured Bradley would be there in five, ten minutes, tops.

It would be fine.

With that in mind, you grabbed your keys and got out of the car. You grabbed some of the boxes from the trunk and made your way to the front door. You felt the familiar anxiety settle over you as you fumbled with the lock, but you figured it was normal - expected, really, all things considered.

It would be fine.

It was quiet when you walked inside. The air felt almost stale inside, stifling, and there was a weird smell that made your nose scrunch. The eerie quiet sent a shiver down your spine. The first order of business would be hooking your phone up to the bluetooth speaker to surround you with noise instead of this, and maybe lighting a candle.

You dropped your keys into the bowl at the door and set the boxes down against the back of the couch. You had only taken a few steps in when you stopped in your tracks.

Your eyebrows furrowed, and it felt like your heart stopped before it started beating again at a rapid pace.

Your kitchen counter was littered with flowers. Many of them were dead, stems bent and empty, the petals having wilted and fallen from them, the water inside of the vases murky and old. Some were in a weird inbetween stage, a few petals missing but hanging onto some color. And there, front and center, was the biggest vase out of the bunch. The followers were clearly fresh, so much so that you could almost smell them, if it weren’t for the sour odor of the old ones. Your brain itched with recognition, and you let out a shaky breath when you realized this bouquet was identical to the ones Bradley had delivered to your office months ago, when you first got back together. Identical to the ones that Paul had then gotten you the next day.

There was a folded piece of paper leaning against that vase with your name scrawled across it. Alarm bells were ringing in your head, but you swallowed thickly and took slow, tentative steps. When you got close enough, you could see how there were insects crawling amongst the dead arrangements covering your counter. Your hands were shaking as you reached for the note.

You let out a sound that you could only describe as horrified when you read the words.

Welcome home - I’ve been waiting for you.

You stumbled over your own feet as you took startled steps back.Your vision blurred with tears and panic was settled so heavily on your chest that you couldn’t breathe. You needed to leave. You needed to go back out the door you just came through and wait for Bradley. You had to get away. You needed to get out.

You whipped around, ready to run for the front door, but you didn’t even get a step in before a scream ripped from your throat.

“You’re finally here.”

Paul was standing right there in front of you, between you and the front door.

You were hit with a gut wrenching, terrifying, twisted and sinking realization that you were alone with him.

You were alone with him, and you had nowhere to go.

------------------

Part Thirteen :: Series Masterlist :: Main Masterlist

Notes: YIKES, BUG!! WHY'D YOU HAVE TO GO INSIDE?! Sorry for the wait on this one, and for being so delayed with responses to the previous part! Life is lifeing, folks. We're almost at the end! Likes/comments/reblogs are the best encouragement for posting more🖤

Thank you to Mak and Em for all of your help making this story come to life. And thanks to Mak for the AMAZING banner!

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frozen-waters · 6 months

Text

people do not understand how hard it was on the women in the camp and why they act the way they do and I’m tired of them getting hated on

Sadie Adler is allowed to be upset. she lost her husband, her home, everything, and has to adapt to the life of an outlaw all while still grieving and healing. she also has to share the same living space with the man who burned her house down to the ground and threatened to kill her. and even aside from Micah, she still isn’t treated all that fairly, being expected to do the more feminine chores around camp instead of being able to go out and hunt and rob. and she’s taken into the gang while it’s deteriorating so things just continue to go downhill and she loses one of the few friends she had made along the way at the very end.

Abigail Marston is allowed to be upset. she was a working girl at a very young age and was taken into a gang where her only real purpose at the time was to satisfy some of their sexual needs. and then she gets pregnant with Jack and her entire situation becomes more permanent. but then the father of her son ran away for a year and she was still surrounded by people who thought highly of him, she still had to do some sort of work either inside or out of camp, and I really think Susan was the only woman in camp who would know anything about pregnancy even if she had never been pregnant so the birth of Jack (and probably most of the pregnancy) was probably overlooked by most of the men excluding the ones like Hosea, Arthur, and Dutch. and then for John to return and claim that Jack isn’t his can only lead for her to have more emotional turmoil. and she couldn’t just leave the gang, she had nowhere to run to, a son to take care of, no job, and also a very limited amount of freedom. the gang moved a lot, the gang got into trouble a lot, there was always the fear that something would go horribly wrong and they’d loose a handful of people or that the law would finally show up. or that something would somehow happen to her son. we can see in the game how protective she is over him and how she’s still trying to get John to believe he’s his son. there’s also one interaction in the game where we hear Susan saying she should get back into the field of prostitution just to get some more money. one of the characters we see her closest to is Hosea, he’s a friend to her and had been the one to step up as a role-model for Jack and has spent more time with him in a day than John has in a month, so in chapter three when Hosea dies, it doesn’t get any easier for Abigail. AND HER SON LITERALLY GETS FUCKING KIDNAPPED???? she didn’t know if she’d ever even see her son again, and she does not owe John any kind of ‘thank you’ for rescuing their son. and we see the game where the gang is falling apart, characters die, people are tense and anxious, money is seemingly short no matter how much you donate, and her and her son are in what seems to be a situation they can’t escape from. I do not know every single thing she’s been through and have probably skipped over some details, but Abigail has not had the best experience in the gang.

Molly O’Shea is allowed to be upset. I already talked about her some here, but some people (@river-of-wine , @sweetybees , @dazednstoned) added things in the tags. Molly is promised a life of excitement and adventure from before the beginning of the game by Dutch, he isolates her early on so he’s really the only person she has a connection with in the gang, making her dependent on him. people in the gang and in REAL LIFE TOO are more often than not on Dutch’s side when it comes to Molly. as soon as we start chapter three Dutch becomes bored of her, already seeking out some other woman inside or out of the gang to rope into his life and his gang. so as literally any normal woman would feel, she is upset. she has no support group in the gang because of her isolation early on and the fact that most of the other women in the gang don’t care for her because she never had to do the work that they had to because Dutch made sure she would t have to. she has pent up emotions that lead to “outbursts” which only annoys the other gang members and causes her to isolate herself even more. Molly was a victim. she was not a bitch, she was not asking for too much, she was not undermining the situation, she just wanted Dutch to do the bare minimum for her.

being a woman in a gang in a world run by men was not easy. there are hundreds of other women in fiction and real life that have lived through these experiences, and the women in the VdL gang have it better than most cases, but they still don’t have it good. and this isn’t even to mention about how the world outside of the gang treated women (especially prostitutes and immigrants) at the time. a majority of the women in the VdL gang didn’t come to a good end, Abigail suffered throughout the gang, Molly and Annabelle got shot because of Dutch, Susan was Dutch’s ex and definitely suffered from his manipulation, I don’t really know about Bessie because she died of an illness and Hosea most likely treated her amazingly but she probably also went through some ordeals. the only women of the gang who really got out of the gang safe were Tilly and Mary-Beth.

Mary Linton is another thing, she does not deserve hate for leaving Arthur to live a better life, she did the smart thing by not marrying and running away with him because who knows what could’ve happened to her. I do not appreciate how she used Arthur’s emotions against him in the game and think that that is why she is a bit of a bad person, but she lived a better life than she ever would have if she was an official member of the gang. she got out before she was ever even in.

I can’t stop you from not liking characters, I’m not the biggest fan of Sadie but I can understand the hardships that all of these women went through.

#rdr2 #abigail roberts #abigail marston #molly o’shea #sadie adler #woah #this is really long #anyways feeling analytical or something idk

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rollingsins · 1 year

Text

all hers, part viii

summary: Wes is acting weird. Weirder than usual. Ghostface!Tara

warnings: (+18), ghostface!tara, possessive behaviors, murder of an established character.

word count: 4k

a/n: peep the murder warning for this one, thought we’d get stabby again ;) as always, thanks so much for the love and let me know what you want to see next!

Wes is acting weird. Weirder than usual.

You’ve felt it ever since the night of Amber’s party. He had always been one of Tara’s quieter friends. Shy, almost. But he was sweet, and he’d always had a lot in common with Tara. They both liked those awful, gory horror movies. Video-games. They had the same taste in food and in books. In fact, out of all of Tara’s friends, you think you liked Wes the most. He’d been the first to welcome you into the group when you’d started dating Tara, and he always went out of his way to make you feel like you belonged.

But over the past week he’d been acting even stranger.

It had started in the cafeteria on Monday, when you’d arrived late to lunch and climbed into your usual spot in Tara’s lap. He’d watched you close as you’d kissed her softly, fed her the last of your grapes. He was just lonely, you figured. He wanted a girlfriend of his own, maybe.

But then Tuesday he’d looked down at your entwined hands in the hall and made a face. Something you couldn’t quite place in his expression.

Wednesday he’d left the table the moment you and Tara sat down.

And Thursday he spent the entire biology lesson staring at the back of Tara’s head. And something clicked.

“Wes has a crush on you.” You tell Tara that night. She’s in the kitchen, one hand stirring the potatoes, the other minding the chicken. You’d been thinking about it all afternoon. Stewing about it all afternoon. The idea of him and her made your stomach writhe with hot, wanton jealousy.

Tara looks up at you for a moment. Then, she quirks her eyebrow and snorts.

“It’s not funny.” You tell her, smacking her arm gently.

“Why on earth would you think that?” She asks. She’s amused, you can tell by the sparkle in her eyes. You’re not laughing.

“I caught him staring at you today.” You say, “All through biology. He couldn’t take his eyes off you.”

She stirs the chicken, a smile playing on her lips.

“Maybe he was daydreaming.” She suggests, a little wry.

“Babe. He wasn’t daydreaming. He was staring. He has a crush on you.”

Tara puts down her spoon, reaches for you.

“Wes doesn’t have a crush on me,” Tara assures. She pulls you into her, presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. “He’s like my brother. You have nothing to worry about.”

She makes her point with a kiss. Strokes the hair out of your eyes.

“It’s not you I’m worried about.” You mumble. You feel hot, a little tingly. It had been hard for you at first to understand why Tara got so angry when she thought someone liked you. You think you understand it now. Anger burns under your skin. Anger towards him.

“Stop worrying.” She kisses you once more. Retracts to go back to her cooking, “Wes is harmless. And he doesn’t like me. I’ve known him forever.”

It feels unfair, the way she’s allowed to brush this off so easily. Your mind can’t help but wander. Dan. Sam. Sadie. Chase. Amber. All with one thing in common.

“If he had a crush on me, you’d have killed him by now.” You don’t often bring it up, the elephant in the room. It was unspoken between you. Like if you didn’t talk about it, it didn’t exist.

Tara looks up at you. She isn’t smiling anymore.

“That’s different.” She says, quiet. Your lip twitches.

“How?”

“You know how.”

You do know how. She’d explained it, one night when you were entwined and your curiosity had gotten the better of you. The Rage, she’d called it. She described the feeling. Hot, ever-present, like burning bright fury coursing through her veins.

“Well, maybe that’s how I’m feeling right now.”

It feels like a low blow, the moment the words leave your lips. If you were honest, you had no idea what The Rage felt like. This was something different. Something less. Insecurity, maybe. Jealousy. You didn’t want Wes thinking of your girlfriend the way only you were supposed to.

“So what are you saying?” Tara asks, “You want to kill him? You want me to kill him?”

You hesitate a moment.

“No. Of course not.”

“Good.” She says. There’s tension in her shoulders. She stirs the potatoes, a little more violently, “Because I won’t. He’s my friend.”

She points her spatula at you, accusingly, “And besides, you made me promise-”

“I know.” You cut her off. Rub your eyes, “I’m sorry. Forget it. I don’t know why I said that.”

You lean into her, press your forehead to her shoulder. She’s tense. You press your lips to the back of her neck, trying to soothe her. Trying to apologize.

“You’re right, he was probably daydreaming.” You say and she relaxes.

Wes isn’t in school the next day. It’s still there in the back of your mind, the idea that he wants your girlfriend. You try to shake it, the horrible feeling of suspicion that seeps into your bones. He has no chance with her even if he does like her, you tell yourself, She loves you. She wants you.

If nothing else you can believe that.

It’s Friday, date night, and Tara’s taking you out to a new place that opened up a couple of towns over. You want to wear something special, look nice for her, so you insist she drives you back to your house so you can grab your outfit after school. She parks in her usual spot, down a small side street so your dad doesn’t see her and switches off the engine.

“I’ll only be five minutes.” You tell her, leaning over the console of the car to kiss her, “Thanks, baby.”

And you exit the car and dash up to the house.

Your dad isn’t home, a small blessing, so you make your way upstairs and rifle through your closet, looking for the dress you want.

Not a minute later, someone is ringing your doorbell.

When you answer, it’s Wes standing at the door.

He looks terrible. Dark circles under his eyes. He’s jittery, nervous. He swallows when he sees you.

“YN.” His voice is serious, “Can I come in?”

This is it, you think as he plays with the can of soda you’ve offered him, he’s about to tell me he’s going to make a play for my girlfriend.

He’s refused your offer to sit down so you stand, watching as he paces back and forth through your kitchen.

Your stomach writhes, that familiar feeling of jealousy sinking in.

Tara will rebuff him.

It’s that voice in your head, trying to calm you.

But then again, what if she doesn’t?

Wes sits. Flattens his hands on the table. His knee is bouncing, nervous. He looks as though he might throw up.

“I have to tell you something.”

You blink back at him. Grit your teeth.

“Alright.”

You wait, but he takes a minute. Decent of him to pay you a visit, you think briefly, as decent as a person could be when he’s about to try and steal your girlfriend from you. Your mind flashes to all those times he’d been with her alone. Taking her to the cinema to watch whatever latest slasher was showing. Talking for hours with her about the importance of elevated horror over a plate of fries at the local diner. You wonder if that’s how he’d fallen for her. A beautiful girl talking animatedly with him about a bunch of teenagers who’d been carved up by a masked killer.

If only he knew.

“I don’t want you to freak out.” Wes says. His eyes are wide, earnest. “I’ve thought really long and hard about this and I wanted to come here first. You deserve the truth.”

He runs a hand through his bleached hair. He’s handsome, you suppose. You could see the appeal. They’d make an attractive couple. Your heart clenches painfully at the thought.

Tara loves you. Tara’s killed for you. Tara doesn’t want him.

The voice is back. You’re grateful for it. Wes could tell Tara he wanted her until he was blue in the face, it wouldn’t make a lick of a difference.

“Wes-” You say. You think for a moment, trying to pick your words carefully, “I know what you’re going to say. And-”

“You don’t.” Wes says. His leg is bouncing again, “Please, YN. I need to get this out now or I won’t be able to say it.”

You stare.

“Do you remember that party a few weeks back? The night Amber died?” His voice is shaky, uneven. You frown. That’s when Wes realized he was in love with Tara? The night one of his best friends was being murdered?

“Of course.” You say.

Your phone buzzes in your hand. You look down at it, see Tara’s name flash across the screen.

almost done babygirl? not getting any younger over here.

“Is that Tara? Don’t answer it.” Wes says, voice urgent. “Please.”

You put your phone on the counter.

“Wes, I have dinner reservations. Whatever you need to say-”

“My mom has this theory.” He interrupts, “I’ve overheard her talking about before. The attacks, they’re not random. They’re all connected.”

Something niggles at you in the pit of your stomach.

“I’m confused.” You say, “What are we talking about?”

“Amber made a pass at you that night.” Wes continues on as if he didn’t hear you, “In front of all of us, do you remember?”

Your stomach flips. Wes is staring at you, his eyes wild. Suddenly, you think you’ve got everything wrong.

“Yes.” You say, voice low, “So what?”

“Sadie was your ex-girlfriend. Chase was your best friend.” Wes says, “Everyone knew he liked you. Including Tara.”

The room’s getting smaller, closing in. You press your hand to the counter, suddenly wishing you’d sat down.

“The other two - I don’t know, maybe they liked you. Maybe you had a thing with one of them at some point.” He’s rambling but you can barely hear him. “I think they were killed because they liked you. Same with Sadie, same with Chase, same with Amber.”

The blood’s rushing to your head. You grip the counter so hard your fingers turn white.

Wes doesn’t seem to notice. He takes another shaky breath, looks you straight in the eyes.

“I think Ghostface is killing people who are connected to you.” He says. “YN, I think Tara is Ghostface.”

The room spins. The hair on the back of your neck rises tall. Every atom in your body courses thick, fast, in a mesh of panic and fear and confusion.

He knows.

His eyes are wide, desperate to convince you.

“Please don’t panic.” He says. He rises, reaches for you. His hands press hard around your forearms. Your face is white, he must see how you look as if you might pass out.

“I know it sounds crazy. I know it’s a shock. But I’m certain. I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t certain.”

Your mouth opens, then closes. You have questions, so many questions. You want to know how he knows, what he knows. You want to know everything. You don’t know how to ask.

“Have you told anyone else?” The most pressing question spills from your mouth before you can stop it. His mom is the sheriff, god, his mom is the sheriff. If she knows it’s over. Tara will be in a cell by sunset.

He shakes his head, wildly, “No. I wanted to come to you first. I wanted to keep you away from her before she could hurt you too.”

You exhale. You can’t hide your relief. He catches it, his eyes knit tight in confusion.

“YN, do you understand what I just told you? Tara is Ghostface.”

You take a breath. Look him in the eye. Wes is sweet. He’s nice. And Tara is his friend. You can talk him down, you know you can.

“Wes, that’s-” You take a shaky breath, “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

He stares at you, shakes his head.

“No, no it’s not. YN-”

“Tara is not Ghostface.” You tell him firmly, “She’s my girlfriend. She’s your friend.”

“It’s her, YN. I’m sure. Think about it. Where was she, that night that Amber died?” He’s staring at you, searchingly, desperate to convince you.

“She was with me.” You insist, “She drove me home. I stayed with her, in her bed. She was with me the whole night. If she had left, I would have known.”

Something flickers behind his eyes. His eyebrows knit tight in confusion.

“She didn’t drive you home.” He says, voice a little flat. “I saw Sam pick you up. I watched Tara put you in the car.”

Your heartbeat pounds. Idiot, you think, of course he saw you. why did you lie?

The look in your eyes is all he needs. His blue eyes blink back at you as he pieces it together. Hurt, confusion, realization.

“Oh my god.” He says, as it dawns on him, “You already know. You already know it’s her.”

Your fingers grip white on the countertop. You swallow hard.

“Wes. You’re confused. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

He backs away from you slowly, runs his fingers through his bleach blonde hair.

“I can’t believe this. I can’t fucking believe this. Are you in on it with her?” He’s staring at you with wide eyes. He’s scared.

“I’m such a fucking idiot.”

“Wes, calm down.” You reach for him but he jerks back away from you. “Wes.”

Your mind races. In all your effort to unravel his theory, you’d only confirmed it more. Tara flashes through your mind. Her sweet smile. Dark, chocolate-eske eyes. Freckle-kissed face.

You think of Wes driving madly to the police station, pointing the finger at her. You think of the Sheriff pulling up to Tara’s house in a squad car and dragging her away in handcuffs.

You think of Tara in a cell. Tara in an orange jumpsuit. The smack of the Judge’s gavel as he declares he guilty and locks her away for life. Far away from Woodsboro. Far away from you.

You’re thinking of her when you grab the knife.

It happens in a flash. Wes launches himself at the door, trying to make a break for it. Adrenaline rushes through you. The handle is cool around your palm as you wrap your fingers around it. You surge forward, grab the back of Wes’ shirt and tug him towards you. In a panicked, heavy swing, you thrust the knife forward and sink it into Wes’ back.

He cries out, stumbles forward onto the carpet. The knife is lodged deep between his shoulder blades. You don’t think, you act. Rush forward and take the handle between your fingertips. He yells out again as you pull the blade out. Thrust it forward once more, then twice, then three times until his whimpering is dying down and your hands are coated thick with his blood.

He falls limp beneath you, face down on the cool tile of the kitchen floor. Your hands shake as the knife clatters to the fall.

Over the blood in your ears, you hear your phone buzzing.

You stumble backwards, grab it from the kitchen counter. It’s Tara, her smiling face looks back at you as you coat the phone bloody.

“Five minutes my ass.” Her voice is light, she’s teasing, “Maybe I need to buy you a watch.”

“Tara.” You whimper into the phone. Your hands are shaking. You stare down at Wes’ bloodied body.

He stares back at you, lifeless. Dead.

“Baby?” You hear the concern in her voice, “What’s wrong?”

“Tara,” You gasp into the phone. You feel dizzy, like you might pass out, “Tara, please you have to come, I’ve done something really bad. Tara-”

“Don’t move, I’ll be right there. Stay on the line with me, sweetheart. Tell me what happened.”

But you can’t, you don’t even know it yourself. It’s all a blur. The shake of Wes’ knee, his blue eyes earnest, worried. Fearful as he backed away from you. Glassy now as he stares back at you. Tears roll down your face as you sob into the phone.

By the time you hear the front door open, you’ve sunken down into the floor, wide-eyed, clutching the phone in your hands as you look at the sight in front of you.

When she enters, you watch as she freezes. Blood splattered across the floor. On the ceiling. All over you. Wes’ lifeless body at the center. Her eyes linger on him, wide and mournful.

“Baby. What have you done?”

“I had no choice.” You feel tears spill from your eyes. The awful metallic smell of blood permeates from your red hands. “He knew, Tara, he knew.”

She’s moving over to you, kneeling down to your level. You sob as you feel the warmth of her on you, her fingers on your face, brushing your blood soaked hair out of your eyes, on your shoulders, tugging you into her.

“He knew what, baby?”

She takes your hands, looking for something, inspecting. Cuts, maybe. There’s no point. It’s all his blood.

You choke back a sob. She pulls you in close.

“He knew you were Ghostface.” You say, tears are streaming thick and fast down your face now, “He came here to tell me. He didn’t know I knew.”

Your voice shakes, “He was going to go to the police, I had no choice-”

“Oh, honey.” She pulls you into her, nestles her hand in your hair. You choke back a sob. Press your face to her chest. Her scent, her arms around you soothe you instantly. But you don’t deserve it, you don’t deserve her comfort. You just killed somebody.

“Tara, what did I do?”

“Hey. It’s alright.” Her hands are either side of your face, cupping your cheeks. “It’s going to be okay.”

She presses a long kiss to your lips. Your lips quiver against hers.

“It’s all going to be okay.” She murmurs as she pulls back. You feel her take charge, “You’re going to go and get into the shower. Wash your hair. Scrub under your nails. Put the clothes you’re wearing in a plastic bag and wait for me upstairs, okay? I’m going to clean this up.”

A fresh wave of tears falls thick down your face.

“Tara-”

“Baby. I need you to be strong for me now. Okay? Tell me what you’re going to do.”

You swallow. Her voice is urgent, her eyes flitting between yours.

“Baby.”

“I’m going to shower. I’m going to wash my hair and scrub under my nails. And then I’m going to put my clothes in a plastic bag and wait for you upstairs.”

She kisses you.

“Good girl.” She murmurs against your lips, “That’s my good girl. It’s all going to be okay, sweetheart.”

You shudder as she retracts.

“Where’s your dad? What time will he be home?”

You didn’t even think about him. Panic swells in your chest, fills your eyes.

“I don’t know. God, Tara, if he comes home and sees this-”

Her hands grip firm around your shoulders.

“Shh. It’s okay. Don’t panic. Just think. Where is he usually on a Friday? What time does he finish work?”

You blink, struggle as you think hard.

“Friday drinks.” You say, finally, “He goes to that bar on 2nd with his work friends. He’s not home until like eight.”

“Good.” Tara says. She presses a kiss to your forehead, “See? Everything will be fine. Now go upstairs, and do exactly what I said.”

You try not to think.

You shower, exactly like she said. Put your clothes in a bag and leave them on the bathroom floor.

Then you slip into one of Tara’s old hoodies and curl up into your duvet and press your eyes closed. Try not to think about how Wes had felt under you as you drove your knife into him. Try not to think about his screams.

She doesn’t come up for a while. You hear her down there, moving around. You can smell the bleach wafting up the staircase. Finally, after what seems like hours she’s moving into the bathroom and turning on the water.

She’s naked when she emerges, drops her towel and rifles through your wardrobe for an outfit. Slips on a pair of your sweatpants and an old t-shirt.

“What did you do with him?” Is the first thing you say. Salt on your lips from the tears. You can still taste the metallic twang of his blood.

“Don’t worry about that. Come on sweetheart, we’re leaving.” She pulls you up out of bed, wraps an arm around your shoulder.

“Where are we going?”

“Home.”

The kitchen is immaculate. Scrubbed down, perfectly clean. Almost like it never happened. There’s a large suitcase by the door when you get down the stairs. You stop in your tracks. Your heart drops.

“Tara, is he in there?”

Her hands are strong on your back as she leads you forward.

“Yes he’s in there. It’s broad daylight, sweetheart. It was the only way.”

You didn’t even think about the logistics. The clean-up. The neighbors. The body. The body that was inside your Dad’s suitcase.

“What are you going to do with him?” Bile rises in your throat. Tara rubs your back, presses her lips to the side of your head.

“It’s better if you don’t know, babe. Come on, let’s get in the car.” She tries to pull you forward, but you resist.

“Tara. I want to know.”

She stares at you for a long moment.

“I’m going to wait until it’s really late and then I’m going to drive out to the river and dump him in it.”

The hairs on the back of your neck stand. She doesn’t allow you a moment longer to think.

“Baby. Come on.”

The drive home feels like a dream. You stare out through the windshield, trying to blink back your tears. Her hand grips yours tight over the center console. The radio blares some pop song. Kids play in the street. Grief washes through you. Grief you caused yourself.

Tara helps you out of the car, half carries you upstairs to her bedroom. You can’t stop thinking about him. He’d been here only a couple of weeks ago, laughing and smiling and smoking weed in the living room. The lump in your throat aches at the thought.

You curl up under Tara’s covers. Breathe deep, trying to surround yourself in her scent. You feel her tuck herself into you, arms wrapping tight around your waist, not an inch of space between you. Her lips ghost the back of your neck.

“Are you hungry?” She’s murmuring, “I’m going to order us some food.”

“We’ve missed our reservation.” You say, a million miles away. You could have been there by now. Sharing a plate of sushi and holding her hand over the table.

“We’ll go next week.” She promises, as if things are perfectly normal and there isn’t a body in a suitcase in the trunk of her car. As if it isn’t your fault he’s in there.

“His mom’s going to be so upset.” You can’t stop the tears from flooding over now. You’d met Wes’ mom once. Judy, the town sheriff. She was a hard ass. And she loved her son with everything she had. Tara squeezes you tight.

“Don’t think about that, honey.”

“I’m an awful person.” You whimper.

“No you’re not. You did what you had to do.” Her voice is firm, “You were protecting me. The way I protect you.”

She kisses your neck. You close your eyes, try not to think. Feel the beat of her heart, the warmth of her body pressed against you. The sweet smell of her shampoo. Coconut, you think, coconut and vanilla.

“If you didn’t do what you did, I’d be gone now. I’d be locked away. They’d take me far away from you.”

At that, you turn in her arms. Lean up to kiss her, fierce.

“Nobody’s taking you from me.” You say. You lock your hands around her neck, brush your nose against hers. “Nobody.”

Not Wes, and certainly not Judy. You’d die without her. You’d kill to keep them from her. She’s yours. She belongs with you.

Your heartbeat steadies, slightly. You take a shaky breath as you look into the warm brown of her eyes. Brush your fingertips over the spatter of freckles across her nose. She’s everything to you. She’s more important than anyone else. Anything else.

“Nobody.” She affirms.

Next part

#scream #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter x fem reader #wednesday #mine #ah #fanfiction

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mothwingwritings · 4 months

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Hi hi~ hope you are doing great today xD

Sooo First of all I love how you write and I have been binge reading yujiro stepfather serie(?) And absolutely love it; but stepdad yujirou + Baki and jack the yandere/siscon stepbrothers could you imagine like:

*Katsumi became her eternal friend but feels like he can't be with y/n, so ends up as her loyal/platonic companion or ends up as a teacher and friend and go on with life because yujirou is hell of strong and Sadie to pummel him again

*yujirou marries s/o and impregnate her, but y/n gives love to the child because she doesn't want him/her to suffer like her brothers

*yujirou wanted to rill up his son's and knowing their dark yandere side put the scenario on so the two end up taking her as well

*Baki and jack won't left her until she at least have s baby of each because hanma bloodline and a sense of twisted family

*and what would happen if pickle also gets interested? How would he reacts with y/n pregnant or with kids and with the scent of the hanma's? Would he tried to kill the kids like the lion in a new pride? Or just add them to the family and put his seed too? And the hanma's what would they do?

*oh and what happened with the ash tray

Sorry for the long feel free to ignore

I love your brain, darling~

Warnings: Stepcest, breeding kink, mentions of child rearing/being a mother, mentions of noncom, 18+ only please.

If the two Hanma brothers didn’t have any kind of breeding kink before, seeing their sweet little sister heavy with child is about to change that REAL quick.

Don’t get them wrong, it makes their blood boil to witness you carrying some other man’s child, let alone Yujiro’s spawn. Seeing you grow each day, swelling with the ogre’s unborn infant, is enough to make them go damn near feral. The whole situation unleashes a torrent of emotions -rage, disgust, pity, vexation, and sympathy, all swirling together within the two of them, vying for dominance. They don’t know whether they wanted to give this kid the world (it was your child after all, and it wasn’t that they weren’t sympathetic to its situation, they probably knew the tribulations and hardships that baby was to face more so than anyone else) or completely disregard it (they just couldn’t shake where it came from, what brutality was committed against you to conceive it).

On one hand, how dare Yujiro force himself inside of you, planting a seed that will bind you to him irrevocably? It was maddening knowing you were trapped by Yujiro’s side, saddled down caring for his offspring. The ogre had you right where he wanted you now, stuck between a rock and a hard place, trapped just beyond the brothers reach.

But on the other hand, two can play at that game.

It was easy enough to convince you to come to them. You loved Baki and Jack. You respected them and you trusted them, you had no reason not to come to them willingly. You were always so eager to see them, so grateful for their companionship. The day they entrapped you, you approached the brothers with arms spread, heart bared, and eyes sparkling as you walked blindly into their trap.

The last thing they wanted was to hurt you, that was never their intention. But you just looked so beautiful when you were pregnant, full and round and glowing, like an angel had landed on earth. They were craving seeing you that way again, adamant that they would be the ones who would fill you with their seed, and you would be the one who would help them create a new life.

And you were such a good mother, doting on your baby with love and affection despite the circumstances of how they were conceived. Didn’t Jack and Baki deserve that too? Why did their monster of a father get the only honor? They certainly treated you better than he did, loved you far more than he ever could or would. And they would never treat their children the way the ogre had treated them growing up, disregarded, abused, or as petty amusements their whole lives. Yujiro was such a terror that the brothers tried to keep themselves from growing overly attached to the baby he had created with you, not only due to the mixed emotions they felt about the situation, but because they knew the likelihood of having an infant survive growing up around the Ogre was optimistic at best.

However Baki and Jack were not their father. Maybe they had to resort to underhanded methods to get to you, sinking down to Yujiro’s level to get you pregnant with their children, but the difference between themselves and that monster would always be the overwhelming affection they held for you. Even if you had trouble understanding what was going on, or couldn’t quite wrap your head around the fact that everything they did for you was for your own benefit and safety, they knew that the lives they were forging for you was what would ultimately make you the happiest and bring you the most joy, you just needed time to get used to it first to realize that. Seeing you waddle around fat with their baby’s is both brothers ultimate dream, and they will destroy anyone who tries to steal that from them, whether that be their father or otherwise. And unlike their father, any life they bring into this world with you will be cherished-the baby will essentially be half you, after all, how could they not adore it?

They know you will cry and feel betrayed and possibly even get a bit hurt should you try to deny them. But no matter what happens, they know you will forgive them because when it comes down to it, you love them just as much as they love you. They are ready and willing to give you all the time in the world to adjust, you are worth any amount of effort to keep happy.

(Also poor Katsumi, but I am glad he gets to be a homie at least lol. The eternal suffering that poor man receives through our prose…)

Now for our caveman situation…

Pickle knows there is something different about you, something that draws a family as strong as the Hanma’s to you. There’s a reason why they are all vying for your attention, eager to procreate with you, and your beguiling presence is not lost on him either. Should his interest become strong enough he’ll definitely snatch you away to create a brood of his own with you. He would become EXTREMELY overprotective of you while you were pregnant, monitoring you like a hawk to make sure you are comfortable and that there are no predators a foot to cause you any harm. When you are full of his children, he treats you more gently than you thought a beast like him possibly could. Were this a situation you were actually compliant in, you would almost call it charming how gently he handles you, or how quietly he tries to lumber his large body around you so as not to disturb you.

As for the other children you had previously… I feel like that is very dependent on the situation. He would not outright kill them by any means. Right now they are small, helpless, they don’t pose a threat to him and you care for them, he has no reason to take them from you nor does he really want to. Also, they have Hanma blood running through their veins and that intrigues him. What manner of person will they grow up to be, he wonders? The thought of watching such people grow, even have a hand in raising them or training them, was too interesting of a prospect to throw out the door.

THAT BEING SAID, his children with you will always take precedence over them. Should you find yourselves in a situation that requires him to choose who he needs to protect, you will always come first, followed by the children he sired with you, anyone else is nonconsequential. Though he has no true ill will towards the children, he certainly doesn’t harbor the love for them that he does his own offspring. He cares for the Hanma kids well enough, but base interest is about as far as it goes. If they starve, get hurt, or have to get sacrificed, so be it.

And Yujiro def still has that ashtray. For WHATEVER reason, even though it’s a shitty little trinket that was crudely made by the hands of your child self, he can’t seem to part from it. He even travels with it and uses it regularly. Weird, huh? I wonder why…

#i kinda popped off on this lol #thank you always for all the lovely ideas you guys send me #i live for them #heh heh heh #yandere baki x reader #yandere baki x y/n #yandere yujiro hanma x reader #jack hanma x reader #jack hanma x y/n #yujiro hanma x y/n #baki hanma x y/n #baki hanma x reader #here's a nice helping of some Hanma fam bs fresh from the oven mmm mmm mmm #also look at me #finally getting to answer asks asked forever ago #ty again!!! I had fun with this!!!#mothresponse

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me-sploh-rada-imas · 1 month

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joker out in oslo 17/03 gig report time! this is long so under a read more. have some footage from my terrible phone and not very good angle :)

while waiting in the queue we were right next to the door and they all came past us to get in. vita, damon, and a woman i assume is sadie sink (with a big suitcase) got locked out and waited for ages and were joined by nace, bojan, and jure. jan came on his own a few minutes later and was also locked out.

regnvær and hearts were really good! at one point, the lead singer of regnvær started playing a song in the wrong key on his guitar and took three tries to get it right. the lead singer of hearts kept saying "yoker out" in a strong swedish accent. they both knocked over mic stands as well it was very chaotic

the security guard was VIBING to the dj between acts it was so funny! he sang along to barbie girl what an icon

now the actual show:

my first thoughts as they came on stage: holy fuck jan is beautiful. NACE GLASSES! bojan's outfit?!?!?!

the stage was too small for the cool props and i couldn't see jure most of the time sadly

bojan did a whole speech about how he'd learnt how to say hello/good day in norwegian (god dag) and joked about it sounding like good dog, and he patted nace while saying it

at one point, nace was at the front of stage and jan came up behind him and pretended to try to push him off and they had a little mock fight while playing it was adorable!! yeah they janced a lot... every time they looked at each other they couldn't stop grinning or making faces at each other

lots of really good krisjan and krisnace moments tonight as well! kris sidled up to nace in ona and jan got in the way again but this time to play with kris. other than this i didn't really see much of kris though

someone get bojan some glasses because every time he tried to read a sign in the crowd he squinted so hard

before vkv someone had a sign that said they'd ask out their crush if they played padam and bojan said he would as kiki gave him his guitar. then they were like 'oh i've asked them out now' and bojan joked about not needing to play padam anymore. and he played the chorus but doesn't actually know it so got some of the chords wrong and it was awesome and very funny! then he dedicated vkv to them and said 'i hope your date goes better than that'.

in behind those eyes, jan and nace did a super slow version of their mating dance circling each other. i had wanted bluza but you can tell they really love playing behind those eyes so i still really enjoyed it

bojan dedicated omamljeno telo to a friend from primary school who'd flown from slovenia and had been a fan before joker out actually formed!

nace's glasses flew off in the middle of omamljeno telo right before jan's solo and bojan put them back on for him agdjafhkl

bojan couldn't keep his hands off nace in plastika as usual

bojan did the kakaka in carpe diem like he used to! but jure didn't come out at the end of it and they didn't do the hearts! it was very sad

it was someone's birthday and bojan sang a cute improvised happy birthday to them during umazane misli

literally the whole first half of umazane misli was jan and nace messing around - jan put a tiny fake hand on one of his guitar's tuning pegs and nace high fived it twice. he was turning in to nace to show him the hand and nace turned his bass upright and started playing it like that?

nace and jan just. lay down. in the um karaoke??? and started playing from the floor? NACE FLOWER CROWN! when he sat up and i could see him again i nearly had a heart attack istg.

the tiny fake hands made another appearance while bojan was introducing novi val and jure, nace, and jan all took turns stroking each other's faces with them it was so funny! nace stroked kris with one at one point. jan and nace did a high five with them too!

no pijano tonight sadly. but holy shit jan looks ethereal playing guitar i totally get why nace looks at him all the time lmao

anyway it was awesome and i had an amazing time!!

#joker out #nace jordan #jan peteh #bojan cvjetićanin #kris guštin #jure maček #personal #šta bih ja

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witchsickness · 2 years

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was skimming through sadie’s yahoo interview to get to the billy parts and she says sth along the lines of ‘billy was the greatest source of pain in max’s life’ and instinctively i was like. how about her abusive stepfather lol. but, like, that’s the thing? billy spent the entire time he knew max placing himself as a shield between her and the man he knew his father to be, so that max would never have to find out for herself.

billy’s last and only source of affection can be traced back to his mother, who, if we accept canon, left him alone with an irascible and violence-prone father at a very early age, so it’s not inconceivable to presume that billy’s idea of affection is, not an active display of tenderness, but the absence of violence. his love language is protecting the people he loves from what he knows is worse using the only method he’s familiar with, namely a watered-down version of neil’s abuse. billy uses intimidation and the threat of violence, hoping those’ll scare max into behaving in a way that doesn’t make her a target in neil’s eyes.

in a way, this is paralleled in billy’s ‘you were moving your feet. plant them next time’ at steve, which, taken into the context of the basketball scene, feels excessive, but. it’s actually a pretty solid piece of advice? billy shoves steve to the ground and then, instead of helping him up once, provides him with the tip he’ll need to never get beaten again. it’s billy’s way of saying ‘life is hard, and i’m here to prove it to you now so you're not forced to realize it later.’ it’s his way of taking back some of the control he’s never had by teaching the people he cares about what he’s known from a very young age, and making them earn the lessons he’s had violently seared into him.

in max’s eyes, and in steve’s, billy’s behavior obviously translates to cruelty, because neither of them are as desensitized to violence the way billy’s been conditioned to. they don’t understand why they need to be exposed to it in the first place, and it’s natural to view billy as the primary source of it, when, in reality, billy’s trying, in his warped way, to shield them from a marginally worse display of cruelty.

billy’s willing to be the bad guy, both because he doesn’t know any other way of professing his affection for the people important to him, and because he knows, all too well, that, if he doesn’t teach them the lessons he’s been taught his whole life now, in his own mitigated terms, someone else, heartless and merciless, will do it later.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #max mayfield #okay rant over i just...........miss him #my stuff

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horseshoegirl · 1 year

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Damn Those Dog Tags: Part 9 - Hang On, Hang On

This is the one you’ve been waiting for 💛 also, that second photo - I actually took it, which I’m really proud of!!

Kay Peeps, if you hadn't heeded the +18 warning, you better do so now. I mean it! Smut is an ever-present possibility from this point onwards.

18+ minors DNI. Ageless and blank blogs are blocked without warning.

❗+18, strong language, godmother reader/original female character, original child, sexual themes (I mean Smut, so get outta here if you ain't +18), Nightmares, Sad (And scared) Sadie is back.

#6.8k Words

Part 8 | Masterlist | Part 10

“So, what’s going on with you and Hangman?”

You choked on your drink, coughing hard, as you spat out, “Nat, come on.”

Natasha had pressured you into having a drink with her at the Hard Deck on your day off, holding you to your promise of having a girl's night before she was deployed.

Not that you didn't want to spend time with her, but you weren't feeling up to this particular Friday night. Or it could have been due to the fact she couldn't stop hounding you about Jake volunteering to pick Sadie up from school.

You had to give her credit. She knew something was up ever since they came home. And despite her best efforts to corner you, you had successfully evaded her. That was until now.

When you told her you couldn't because you didn't have anyone to watch Sadie, she saw right through your bald-faced lie, saying she knew Amelia would be coming over to help Sadie with a science project.

You were left with no way out of it.

“Rooster had a ‘chat’ with us,” she exclaimed. “Told us we needed to stop being mean to Jake, or we won’t be able to see Sadie anymore.”

You rolled your eyes. "He's exaggerating. You know I would never stop you from seeing Sadie.”

She nodded her head in agreement, but it didn't stop her from pressing further. "So spill. There was no way that would have come out of his mouth willingly."

She wasn't going to let this go, you thought. Maybe filling her in on bits and pieces of what happened would calm her curiosity, and you'd catch a break.

"Jake was helping me get through the whole CPS situation." you started, knowing Jake would have told Rooster as much. "Then I found Tyler's letter while you guys were deployed. So I showed it to him, and... Well, you know Bradley, he jumped to conclusions and thought he saw something he didn't."

"He basically accused me of not thinking about Sadie," Nat's eyes softened with your words. She knew without a double you considered Sadie before doing anything for yourself. For Bradley to suggest otherwise was harsh.

"So, I told him to stop being mean to Jake as an apology."

"Did Bradley see something he though he saw?”

You swallowed at her words. There was no way she saw you and Jake too. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, did Bradley actually see something going on between the two of you? When you showed him the letter."

You dug your nails into your thigh as you replied, "Are you implying something is going on between Jake and I?"

Nat didn't hesitate when she answered you with, "Come on, Liz, how many female friends does Jake actually have?"

That made you pause, blankly staring at her. She was right.

"Jake doesn't do that with most people."

You felt pinned down. With no way out but to deny everything. So instead, you went for, “How much do you know about Jake?”

“Besides the fact, he’s an ass?”

“Nat.” You snapped. “He’s not. Stop with that.”

Phoenix leaned back in her seat, a pleased grin on her face. “You like him.”

“Nat!”

"Hey, I know I was against it initially, but I honestly think you are making a difference for him."

Much like Penny's reaction, you thought Nat would have undoubtedly jumped to your defence, threatening to kick him to the curb or shoot him down the next time they went up together. So the fact she was actually reacting positively made you question everything.

You pinned her with your eyes. "Why are you so suddenly changing your mind about Jake?"

"Besides the fact he is good with the Bug? I think he genuinely likes you."

Well, that made your ears burn.

"He was different this time out. Less harsh on everyone. Actually wanting to talk to us like decent human beings. I don't think that's a coincidence."

“A man doesn’t change his ways for a woman,” you rolled your eyes at her.

“He does if it’s the right woman.”

You dropped your elbows to the table, leaning forward. “That’s so fricken cheesy, Nat.”

She huffed out a laugh, you joining in with her.

“I meant to say, if you want to, I’ll back you up.”

You opened your mouth, some retort about Jake never going for someone like you ready on your lips, when someone collapsed into the empty booth next to you, a body trying very hard to use you as a personal pillow.

It could have only been one person, literally from the fact he had done this once before.

“Bob?” you questioned, your hand coming up to rest against his cheek.

“Hi, Lizzie,” he hiccuped, burying his face into the back of your shoulder. You looked up at Nat, shocked. She stared at Bob for a few seconds before putting her face into her hands. “Dammit, Bob, not again.”

Rooster, Coyote and Jake swarmed your table, Rooster exhaled after finally tracking down Bob, sighing out under his breath, "There he is."

Clearly, that wasn't the correct thing to say in front of Nat.

“What did you guys do to my WSO?!” She cried out, staring at Rooster.

“It’s not our fault he’s a baby.”

Javy was hanging at the back of the group, a disappointing look on his face, which led you to believe he had nothing to do with Bob's current state. Meaning Rooster and Jake, standing at the front, were at fault.

You glared at Jake, your face saying everything words couldn't.

He only shrugged. “He wanted to play 8-ball for drinks.”

You were about to open your mouth to reply before your phone blared out. You looked down at your phone, frowning at the notification.

Serve weather warning. Seek shelter immediately.

“There’s a storm warning." You said out loud, scrolling through your phone to read the weather report. "It looks really bad.”

“I bet we could make it back home in time?” Coyote suggested, looking to Bob before looking out the back windows of the Hard Deck. You followed his gaze, and judging by the sky outside, the waves, and the sudden bursts of wind, they wouldn’t.

“Nope. Out of question. All of you are staying at mine tonight.”

It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve dragged the squad back to your house after a night of drinking. You were sure it wouldn’t be the last either.

But if this was the first major storm of the season lurking in the sky as an imminent threat and your house being only being five minutes max away from the Hard Deck, this would be the easiest way to ensure everyone remained safe, especially with Bob.

You wouldn’t risk the chance of something happening to them if you could help it.

“Are you sure?” Phoenix asked. “I don’t know about the others, but I would really appreciate that. But I don’t want to impose.”

You stared at her ridiculously. “Nat. Seriously. You guys have done a lot worse.”

“Okay,” She held her hands up, then looked to Bob. “But I’m not bunking with any of these lightweights.”

Judging by Bob’s hiccup against your shoulder, you didn’t blame her. Glancing at him from over your shoulder, you remarked, “This one is walking home with us.”

You looked back at the group. “Any takers?”

Bradley immediately replied, “I’m not turning down your couch. That thing is awesome.”

Javy nodded, adding, "It would be nice to have breakfast with Sadie."

Then you turned to Jake, raising your eyebrow. “You in? I promise I have enough room.”

You felt Nat kick you from under the table, and you did your best not to react.

Jake looked conflicted for a moment, his forehead scrunching together and narrowing his eyes. "You walked here again?"

"Why would I waste gas when I'm five minutes out?"

He couldn't really argue with your logic, but that didn't stop him from worrying about you walking by yourself. Not that you would be this time, but during the nights when you closed.

But a night under your roof? There was a time he had asked that question with nothing more than the intent to get you into a bed and fuck you until he was stated.

But now? He would do anything just to be near you.

Jake reached for Bob, peeling him off your body before handing him over to Rooster and Coyote, before holding out his hand to help you out of the booth. The cocky smirk was back as he said, "Lead the way."

Bradley and Javy hooked their arms under Bob’s shoulders, lifting him up and over to the front door. You quickly said your goodbyes to Penny and Jimmy, who swore they would be okay by themselves to close early. Deciding to walk was an easy decision. If the storm was as bad as the report said it was, they were better leaving their cars in the parking lot overnight rather than in your tiny driveway and along your street.

The heat was stifling as you exited the bar, the storm in the air and the sky behind the thunder clouds a deep orange. A car horn honked at you when, in your eagerness to watch the sky, you weren’t looking where you were going.

Jake walked next to you, making sure to put himself between you and the road on your journey home. And when a strong gust of wind threatened to knock you over, he pulled you tight into his side, his arm fastened around your waist as if you’d be swept off with the next gust of wind.

Your mind should have been racing with more thoughts about Jake’s hand on your waist. What it meant, if it was related to New Year's Eve, if he was just being a good friend or whether Rooster or Coyote saw now that Nat was no longer an issue. In fact, you were certain she was going to start encouraging it if it meant getting a reprieve from the tension amongst the team.

But Rooster and Coyote were too busy making sure Bob didn’t fall over because of the wind. And Nat was ahead of you all, leading the group up the street quickly because she didn’t want to get wet.

Instead, for some strange reason, you couldn’t help but wonder if the car driving out of the parking lot was the same as when Jake drove you home from your shift that night.

_____

You awoke to a rumble of thunder shaking the house.

The storm had only progressed in the hours since you arrived home with the Daggers. Amelia had already helped Sadie to bed when you greeted her at the door. You offered for her to stay, but she assured you she could get home before the real brunt of the storm hit. You only let her go if she promised to let you know when she got home.

Rolling over, you spied Nat on the other side of your bed, perfectly passed out and unbothered by the ruckus over your house. You envied her ability to sleep wherever, though you pitied the why.

Tossing and turning, you couldn’t get comfortable. You thought maybe counting the time between the rumbles of thunder and the sparks of lightning would lull you back to sleep, but nothing seemed to help.

Your eyes shot around the room, taking in the objects you carefully placed to make this room your own, till you paused at your bedside tablet. Your small jewellery box, a photo of Sadie, your alarm clock revealing 3:00 A.M. in bright green numbers. And your book Pride and Prejudice, the bookmark still in the same spot since the day you read it on the beach last year. The brief thought of reading came to mind, but you pushed it aside almost instantly. You knew you’d only pick it up to read the same page over and over, never venturing from the last sentence on that page, before you’d slam the book shut and throw it back to its resting place.

Deciding to bite the bullet, you lifted your covers, watching Nat carefully as you climbed out of your bed, thinking maybe a cup of tea would help.

After shutting your door carefully, you tiptoed through your hallway, pausing for a second outside your office door, where Jake would be fast asleep on your pull-out couch.

The minute everyone arrived, they went about making themselves at home, following the same routine they always did when staying over.

Nat instantly sought out your room with nothing more than a 'Goodnight, Losers!" over her shoulder. After Bob was settled on the opposite end of your couch, Rooster flung himself down into the cushions, an arm strung over his face covering his eyes as he pilfered the blanket you had strung over the back of the couch. Coyote had taken the floor, having dug around in your garage for your air mattress, finding it perfectly adequate.

After checking on Sadie, you found Jake standing in your kitchen, looking a little lost. You simply had looped your arm through his, taking him down the hallway to your office where you had already pulled out the bed, sheets and all ready.

Deciding against opening the door, you forced yourself to continue to your kitchen, the storm lighting your path. You hand sought out the light switch under the upper cabinets before reaching for your kettle.

After filling it up, you placed it back on its stand, pressing a few buttons before rummaging through your tea chest for Chamomile tea.

It would be a couple more minutes before the kettle boiled, so you pulled out your empty trash can from under the sink and a bottle of water from your fridge. After a quick pit stop at your bathroom, you made your way into the family room, carefully navigating yourself around the room so you could place the objects in front of Bob for when he woke up in the morning.

Even though Rooster's snores and the pain pelting hard against the roof, you heard the kettle whistle, and you eagerly made your way back to make what you hoped would be a cure for your insomnia.

Nursing the cup of tea between your hands, your oversized sleeves protecting your skin from the extreme heat, you leaned against the kitchen window over the backyard.

A gasp escaped your lips when you heard the sound of glasses clicking against one another a few seconds later. You whipped around to see what made the noise. Jake froze, his arm slowing dropping down after grabbing a glass.

“Sorry,” he said softly, voice riddled with sleep. “I just wanted to get a glass of water.”

You relaxed instantly, pressing your mug back to your chest. "It's okay."

After filling his glass, Jake joined you, leaning up against the wall opposite.

“Can’t sleep?” He asked, bringing the glass to his lips. You shook your head.

“I used to like storms,” you reminisced, playing with the string of your tea bag. “But now…”

You didn't need to say anymore. Jake knew, given the way you trailed off, making your body smaller by curling inwards on yourself. He decided to change the topic, offering a “Bob drunkenly confessed Rooster had a chat with him.”

You chuckled to yourself, knowing exactly what Jake was referring to.

"I'm sorry if it wasn't my place," you apologized to him. "I just had enough."

"Enough?"

"Of them treating you like that. Of Bradley not giving you a chance," you shrugged.

“I can't say it's not unwarranted,” he replied, glancing out the window to take in the storm. “I may have said something about his Dad in the past.”

"Jake..."

He faced you, looking ashamed. "I know what you're going to say. How could I, right?"

"I wasn't going to say anything," you spoke softly. "Only that it's your past. It's not who I know you as."

Here you go again, he thought. Treating him as if he wasn't undeserving of you defending him.

This time, it was you who decided to change the topic.

"I never thanked you for picking up Sadie. She had a good time."

Despite the heaviness from before, Jake smiled to himself. "She's a good kid."

Then he offered, “You don’t want to know what she wanted to talk to me about?”

You shook your head. “If she wanted to tell me, she would have. I don’t mind she has secrets, but I trust if it were important enough, she’d come to me when she needed me.”

“Besides,” you said, bringing the tea to your lips and smirking into the mug, “She told me you faced Ursula.”

The look on Jake's face was priceless. You didn't know a lot about what happened, and Lyssa was short on details. But they both told you Jake didn't bat an eyelid when she tried to flirt with him. But judging from the look on his face, something happened that they didn't tell you about.

Then suddenly, your words made you think back to you and Jake sitting in the booth that night before the almost kiss. He wanted to tell you something before Bradley decided to be an ass.

You thought about it for a second, knowing if you went down that road and brought up New Year's Eve, it would undoubtedly lead to a discussion about whatever happened between the two of you that night. You'd never know why the witching hour was suddenly the moment you decided you’d need to ask the hard questions. If you did, would Jake answer you honestly, here and now, in your kitchen?

You were about to ask, but the next rumble of thunder over the house was too close for comfort, the force causing the window next to you to clatter in the frame. You gasped, jolting away from the glass, a crack of lightning following right after.

Your power flickered once, then twice, before going out completely, and you instantly looked for Jake in the darkness. But the next sound that echoed through the walls didn’t come from a crack of lighting or a rumble of thunder. No, it was one of the most jarring screams you had ever heard.

You didn’t register it right away—another crack above masking the tail end of the sound. But Jake had. He was gone, running out of your kitchen and into your hallway, the bolt of lightning illuminating your kitchen and the spot where he once stood within seconds.

Only one person in the house could have produced such a scream.

Sadie.

You almost dropped your cup of tea, carelessly sliding it along your kitchen counter as you took off after Jake into the hallway, hands skimming along the walls as your heart pounded hard in your chest.

Her door was already open by the time you turned the corner. Reaching the door frame, you caught the tail end of Sadie lit up by another flash of lightning from her window, all red-faced and crying, scrambling into Jake’s arms as he sat on the end of her bed.

Taking her into his arms, Jake spoke soothingly, “Easy, Bug.”

"Uncle Jake," she whimpered back.

“It’s just a storm," he placed a hand on her back. "We’re safe. Your safe.”

She gasped out a sob, clutching Jake harder, burying her head into his chest. She dropped her hand down from the back of his neck, gripping his shirt tightly in her fist as she cried out, “Don’t let me go! Don’t let me go!”

“Not a chance,” he muttered into her hair. You pushed forward from the door, racing to the side of her bed, a hand on Jake’s back as you kneeled down next to them.

“Sadie?”

A bolt of lightning lit up her room, and you caught her shuttering at the light. She turned her head, still buried in Jake’s collarbone, to look at you. You placed your other hand on her back.

“It was a nightmare,” she sniffed before retreating back into Jake’s chest.

“It’s okay to have a nightmare, Bug. We all get them.” You soothed, rubbing your hand up and down her back. Meeting Jake's eye, you could see his panic wash away, now replaced with concern that Sadie was merely scared than seriously hurt.

“Even me,” Jake offered. You were about to ask her, but Jake must have known what you were thinking when he followed up with, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

It took her a second, but she managed to squeak out a muffled, “Everyone didn’t make it home.”

Jake’s arms flexed just a little at her admission. It was obvious he didn’t want to let her go. Sadie didn’t want to let him go either.

“And… then the storm,” she stuttered. “Mum…and you. It's too much."

Jake and you let her catch her breath, Sadie wiping away her tears before resuming the grip she had on his shirt. "I was alone."

Your voice was firm, even if your heart was breaking at her words, when you replied back, "There will never be a point in your life, Sadie, where you will be alone. You have my word."

Another rumble of thunder shook her window, making her whimper. Her voice was small, “I’m scared.”

“What are you scared about?” Jake asked her softly.

“The thunder,” she cried. “The lightning. What else is up there.”

You caught Jake’s smile from where it was hidden in her hair. “Well, I can tell you from first-hand experience that it’s nothing but clouds up there. If there were, I would have seen it by now.”

Sadie pulled back, resting her chin on Jake's chest, peering up at him to take in his words. "Really?" She asked. Jake nodded. "I promise."

"Do you think you can manage to fall back asleep?" you asked her.

"I don't want to be alone," she managed to say before another burst of lightning filled her room, making her jolt.

“I gotcha, Bug.” Jake consoled her. “We won’t leave till you feel safe.”

Jake pressed his cheek to the top of her head, eyes closed as he held her, rocking back and forth as another rattle shook the house. Sadie shook harder with each roar, and he tried to soothe her the best he could.

As the worst of the storm passed, although no less intense as rain pelted against the windows, Sadie fell back asleep holding on to Jake. He lifted his cheek off her, glancing down at her with so much tenderness it made you want to cry. Placing a hand on the back of her head, he carefully picked her up so as not to disturb her sleep.

It brought you back to the nights Sadie would fall asleep on your chest as a baby or when she was only five years old, Ridley working night shifts at the hospital, and it was just the two of you. Falling asleep in the rocking chair in her room or on the couch, much like Jake was doing now, you’d carry her back to her bed, wondering how long it would be before she grew up and you couldn’t anymore.

Gently laying her down, Jake delicately peeled her hands off his shirt, ensuring she was settled, tenderly brushing away a piece of her hair covering her face. He stepped back to allow you to pull the covers over her. After pressing a kiss to her forehead, you motioned for Jake to follow.

Softly closing her bedroom door after Jake walked ahead of you, you pressed your back up against the wall next to her door.

“Thank you, Jake.”

“You don’t need to thank me for that," he said, standing opposite of you, looking down at the floor.

“No, I do,” you couldn’t gather the words to describe just how appreciative of what Jake just did for Sadie. “I… I don’t know what we’d do without you. She adores you... I..”

You had to stop yourself. You weren't going to admit to Jake that you liked him like this. It would be taking advantage of him, especially after that. But your mind raced, and instead, you went back to the question you wanted to ask before Sadie screamed.

You needed to know. If bringing up New Year's Eve would bring the downfall of this friendship, if setting a boundary with Jake was needed, then you'd rather rip the band-aid off now before your heart would ache further.

So standing in the middle of your hallway, just outside Sadie's door, with the rest of the daggers asleep in the house, you opened the can of worms.

“What did you want to tell me New Year’s Eve at the Hard Deck?” you asked him softly.

Jake lifted his head, shocked. “What?”

“When I showed you the letter, you wanted to tell me something.”

Jake shook his head, eyes cast down towards your floor, murmuring, “It’s not important.”

You frowned at his dismissal, pushing yourself off the wall. “Jake, it must have been important to you if you wanted to tell me.”

He turned around, raking his fingers through his hair.

“Jake?”

He looked to the hallway leading to your family room, pausing a few seconds before looking to your bedroom door, to Sadie’s, and then coming to rest on you. There’s a heat in his eyes, and you cannot help but feel the weight of it flushing down your body.

But you were still concerned. It wasn’t like Jake to be like this.

“Jake?” you tried again. This time your voice was significantly lower and a bit more concerning, hoping it would encourage him to speak. But then he licks the bottom of his lip, the little movement making your brain shortcircuit.

There you were, standing there looking up at him, worried something was wrong. In a sleep shirt, ten times too big for you. Standing outside Sadie's bedroom door.

You. His possibility of someday.

Penny gave him a green light. Sadie told him she was okay with it. But he realized he didn't want to be searching for those commanding orders in any decision regarding you.

A bell, a snake, his own fucking hesitancy. There would always be something preventing him from doing what he wanted. If he wanted to do it, he had to do it now.

If not now, when.

He doesn’t even lower his voice when he says, “Fuck it.”

Jake is in front of you in two strides, taking your face into his hands as he bends down without hesitancy, pressing his lips to yours. You froze, unable to move as your arms hung limply by your sides, trying to process exactly what just happened as everything around you went silent with his touch.

When you don't react, Jake releases your lips, his eyes wild and lips red as he takes in your face. And it hits you, at that moment, how desperate and turned on you were for him to give you more from that one kiss alone.

You lean up, pressing your lips back onto his. Jake wrapped an arm around your shoulders, walking forward and backing you up against the wall.

You were in absolute disbelief, yet a small part of you wanted to shake with joy. Maybe you were shaking with joy. Or nerves. You couldn’t tell. Not with how hard Jake was pressing you into the wall. His hold on you was just that tight. His other hand slips down from where it landed on the wall, along your hip bone, before grazing the bare skin of your thigh. His callouses a stark contrast on your soft skin.

But it’s not enough for him. He moves to grip the back of your thighs with both hands, bending down slightly to lift you up. Your legs instantly wrapped around his waist, and you let instinct take over, your arms wrapping themselves around his shoulders, hands and fingers looping around the back of his neck to weave through the roots of his hair as you keep kissing him.

You had no idea how quickly the two of you got where you were so quick, but you didn’t want it to stop. But your heart fluttering hard against your chest was telling you to stop, competing with the quiet urge deep inside you screaming for you not to ruin the moment and let yourself experience it, to take as much as Jake was willing to offer.

But you couldn’t. You were too terrified, beneath how your body responded to Jake and his touch.

You needed him to know. You needed him to understand.

You weren’t somebody he could fuck around with.

With Jake releasing your mouth, you sucked in a desperate breath, “I’m not a one-night stand, Jake. I don’t sleep with people for fun.”

The words spilled out of you before you even really knew you were saying them. The defence mechanisms that had been slowly breaking down since the night at the Hard Deck, the hike, the video chat, and the almost kiss on New Year’s Eve were crying out in some last desperate attempt to survive. This a last attempt at warning you nothing but trouble and heartache would follow should you choose to keep walking down this path.

You were subconsciously aware of Jake’s hand travelling up your back, fingers catching the top helm of your baggy sleep shirt, pulling it down and exposing the skin of your shoulder, his nose softly tracing your cheek near the corner of your mouth.

I know you don’t,” he rasped before kissing you again. Heart soaring up your throat, you forced yourself to pull away, panting out, “You have a reputation.”

“Do I?” He whispered against your jaw before pressing open-mouthed kisses down your neck to your collarbone before sucking on the soft skin of your shoulder. “Enlighten me.”

“A trail of one-night stands,” you whimpered as he sucked harder, your hand going to his chest. “Quitting bartenders of broken hearts.”

Words were hard. It took you a couple of seconds, between feeling him stroke at your skin and his mouth at your collarbone, to formulate the words you needed to explain your point.

“Your call sign up in the girl's bathroom.” Shit. “It’s obvious.”

“Is it?” He had the decency to sound like he wasn’t as affected as you were, with no wavering of breaths or stuttering responses. Even if his voice was a little bit rough, it oozed confidence.

“It’s what I’ve been told.”

The hallway around you was non-existent. The storm raging on was non-existent. Nothing mattered but the feeling of Jake’s body, his hands, his mouth pressing up against you. His fingers splayed across the small of your back, sliding down only to grope at the bare skin of your ass underneath your sleep shorts.

It was too much. And not enough.

“What happened to the clean slate?”

“The clean slate was different - Shit,” your voice caught in your throat when he adjusted his grip, you dropping a few inches down the wall, your pelvis now flush against his. “I thought you wanted to be friends.”

“Do friends want to do this to each other?” he smirked against your jawline.

They certainly don’t, was the first thought in your head. Friends with benefits, maybe, but you weren’t that type of person. You cared too much ever to let your heart get hurt like that.

So you challenged him back, “Why do you think Penny hired me back? They all left because of you.”

“Not for what you think,” Another sharp kiss, all teeth pulling at your bottom lip, hard.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Let me prove you wrong.”

You stilled in this hold, nails digging into his broad shoulders and your hand pushing him away as you gasped slightly at his words. Jake hesitantly pulled back to look at your face, hands pausing in their efforts.

“Jake,” you managed to say, your breath harsh as your chest heaved with effort. “Are you asking to take me out on a date?”

You saw the gentle movement of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed before giving a terse nod. “Just one. That’s all I’m asking, Liz.”

You started at him in shock. “You don’t date.”

“I would for you.”

“And when you realize I’m not worth it?

“Bullshit.”

He was angry at you for saying so, back to pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your lips as if it would prove to you just how much he thought you were.

“You don’t want me,” you spoke in between kisses, Jake responding in kind by urging across your lips, “Yes, I do.”

“No," you pulled away from his mouth, panting harshly as both your hands pushed at his chest.

“Since the first moment I met you,” he is sure in his words. “Making an ass of myself by attempting to pick you up. But I didn’t realize how much until we spoke when I was overseas.”

“Why?”

“Because,” he started. “You’re not the type of person someone spends the night with. You’re the person they come home to.”

“Jake,” his name is a cry on your lips. There was no way he would see you like that. It was fucking insane. He must be fucking insane.

You went to shake your head, Jake catching a kiss on your cheek, preventing you from following through. Then another, and another before he found the corner of your mouth. You were unable to resist the feeling, the drive to turn your head back to meet his lips.

Jake couldn’t stop kissing you. If this were all he could get, he would take what he could while he still could. He just couldn’t understand why you thought you weren’t worth a chance.

“You should know what you're getting into,” you said, tilting your head back to whisper against his lips. “If you want to date me.”

“What am I getting into?” he challenged, lifting his chin up to rub his nose against yours.

“I have little to no dating experience, Jake.”

“According to you, neither do I.”

“I’m not like other girls.”

“It’s why I like you.”

“I’m off limits.”

“Fuck them.”

“Jake, I’m…”

“Stop.”

Another kiss. But this time, you let him. You let him press you harder into the wall, letting yourself gasp into his mouth, to hear him moan with you, to let him stroke up and down the back of your thigh, only to realize Jake was working his mouth down your body once more, down your neck and across your collarbone. Your hand finds a grip his hair, anticipating the path his lips might take. But instead of going back to your shoulder, Jake goes for your chest.

An open palm trailed up your stomach and over your ribs, pausing just below your breast. “Can I?” he rasped.

“God, yes,” you managed to croak. You couldn’t help yourself. Not when this touch was making you feel this good. Jake kneaded your breast, and you mewled, your head thumping back into the wall. He used his grip to bunch up your skin, taking in a mouthful exposed by the dip of your shirt to suck. You let out a cry behind a closed mouth, Jake grunting with the noise.

Something was building in the pit of your stomach. Was it heat? You certainly felt hot, your skin exposed, vulnerable, under Jake’s touch and mouth. And the way he was working his way around your breast, tongue travelling down your skin. His tongue shot out, creeping just at the underside of your breast, your hand shooting out to the wall, searching for a grip that wasn’t there.

“I’m a package deal,” you gasped up towards the ceiling. Jake paused in his efforts, looking up at you before bringing his face level with yours.

It felt cheap to throw Sadie in as the last resort. But you needed him to know, to really understand Sadie was a part of this too. Even in his arms, feeling his body pressing into yours up against the wall, your legs wrapped on either side of his waist. That if he really wanted this, he needed to know it wasn’t only you he had to consider.

You already knew what he was going to say.

You just needed to hear him say it.

His eyes were soft as he replied, “It’s the both of you or nothing at all.”

“Are you sure?”

You didn’t mean to make your voice so small or shut your eyes. But even with your back-and-forth internal monologue of fuck it and no fucking way, your insecurities came out front, right and center.

He didn’t hesitate when he replied, pressing his forehead to yours, “I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t sure.”

Every brick you had ever built to protect yourself from accepting you felt something more than just mere friendship with Jake crumbled at his words.

“One date, darlin’.” He breathes out. “Give me a chance.”

You could no longer keep lying to yourself. The last brick had fallen, and with the realization settling in your stomach, there was no possible way you would have ever kept that stupid promise to yourself.

You wanted Jake Seresin more than you needed to breathe - in all the ways that mattered. And he wanted you too.

“Okay.”��

Jake pulled back, the hand gripping your hip proceeding to hold your jaw. The back of your head hit the wall, forcing you to open your eyes.

“Okay?”

He looked worried, you thought. But there was also something desperate about how his stare took you in, pinned to the wall with his body and hips. As if you possibly couldn’t be saying yes. Despite the nerves in your answer, you shakily raised your hand off the wall, fingers threading themselves through his hair once more.

“Okay,” you affirmed, nodding once. “One date.”

Relief. That was the look on Jake’s face as he took in your words. He closed his eyes, body sagging into you as his face found a home in the crook of your neck.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, your legs still tight on his waist, his hand holding you in place as his breath warmed the phantom sensations from the number he did to your neck. You’d have to escape to the bathroom to hide the evidence before anyone woke up.

And as you stroked your fingers up and down the back of his neck, all Jake wanted to do was take in the feeling of you in his arms. Your softness, your warmth, the smell of your bath soap. The pressures of maybe, what ifs and his inevitable ability to fuck things up abated for now.

You had said yes.

The realization led him to press small, gentle kisses to your collarbone. They were feather-light touches across your skin that made you press a kiss to his temple in contentment.

“I don’t put out on the first date.”

“Either do I,” a muffled reply against your skin.

You chuckled, fingers messing through his hair. “Liar.”

“Not with you,” feeling him speak against your jaw, a vibration just barely thrumming in your ear. “I want to take this slow.”

You couldn’t help the smile. “You call this slow?”

Jake bit down on your neck, a sensitive spot that made a shriek escape your lips and throw your head to the side. Your breath hitched at the feeling of his tongue soothing the sharp sting.

“For now,” his voice was rough. “Just let me keep kissing you. Before somebody wakes up or something stops me for god damn fourth time.”

Maybe it was the fire burning through your veins encouraging this bout of sudden confidence. You usually weren’t this forward. But the words spilled from your lips before you really knew what you had said.

“The last time was your fault. You should have aimed for my lips.”

Jake canted his hips, the arm wrapped around the back of your waist to pull you down hard. There was no mistaking the deliberate press of his hips or the meaning behind it when he squeezed your hip. The feeling of him hard, through the layer of his pants, caused a mix of a whine and a gasp of surprise to escape your lips.

Jake covered your mouth with his in an attempt to silence you; his voice honeyed against your mouth as he asked, “Did I aim right this time?”

It was a miracle the Daggers currently in your house weren’t light sleepers. If the low rumbles of thunder and cracks of lightning outside your house hadn’t woken them up now, your voice as Jake continued to work his mouth over your body surely wouldn’t.

Jake here, pressing you up and next to Sadie’s bedroom door, would not go over well.

You just hoped Sadie was still asleep on the other side of the wall.

So... no more pitchforks? 😂 Right?🫣

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Part 10: Let's Dance coming soon.

Wickett ;)

220 notes · View notes

zvdvdlvr · 11 months

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- in which they watch you die

☆ - featuring :: arthur morgan, john marston, dutch van der linde

☆ - warnings :: death, coarse language, death threats, smoking, murder, reader's gender is not specified, pov changes

☆ - k.j.'s diary says... this writing is both short and not my best work. sean maguire, javier escuella, charles smith will be in part two

☆ - ARTHUR MORGAN

my fault, all my goddamn fault was all arthur could think when he watched your body fall in slow motion to the ground.

"arthur!" dutch called over the loud gunfire. arthur was unable to tear his gaze from the warm blood leaving the four bullet holes in your side dripping onto the ground.

he told you to come into the bank, to help him get up to the roof to snipe the guards. he told you to leave the relatively safe position you were in to come help arthur with a job he could do perfectly fine alone. he just wanted you out of there and quite unfortunately, you died because of that.

"get up to the roof, son!" dutch yelled, shoving arthur out to the alley of the saint denis bank.

"'m sorry, y/n. god i am sorry. i ain't- christ. . . i ain't mean to getcha killed. shit, i ain't even know where you were," arthur mumbled. he climbed three ladders before he got to the spot that would do him well.

he killed every guard he saw with a headshot, spilling the oily bastards' brains onto the ground and walls of the glorified 'city of the future'.

not five minutes later the man arthur called his brother was shot in front of him too.

ain't that just the way, arthur thought. the man's jaw was sore from how hard he was clenching it, and his eyes stung like nothing else.

"let's go, damnit!"

the gunslinger was pulled to his feet.

arthur was pushed forward. "we need to get out now so there aren't more dead later," dutch said.

and that was that. . . for now.

☆ - JOHN MARSTON

it was completely preventable, what happened to you. at least from what john heard.

of fucking course he had to be locked up the day you died.

he had looked around when he got back, a wry smile pulling his lips thin. past arthur's shoulders, past sadie's unsmiling face. "where's y/n?" he asked, smile faltering.

sadie swallowed, eying arthur. "uh. . . y/n-"

"is dead," arthur finished. "agent numbnuts, uh, ambushed us. we were all good up until the end, adrenaline. . . adrenaline wore off. y/n fell behind me," arthur explained, avoiding eye contact with john. "they showed me two bullet holes they'd been hidin'. . . y/n died in my arms. talkin' 'bout you." arthur clenched his jaw and sniffed.

sadie looked uncomfortable. she'd gotten close with y/n and she had been crying alongside arthur while y/n spent their last minutes just talking with the pair. it's been so long since i've just talked with someone. ain't know how much i missed it, they had said. miss you asshats already, was one of the last things that had bubbled up from y/n's bloody lips.

"we're sorry, john."

"did- did you bury them?" john's voice wavered dangerously.

sadie nodded. "we can, uh. . . show you."

the rest of the day was a blur. a mix of voices, the slur of a familiar voice. john didn't know what to do.

☆ - DUTCH VAN DER LINDE

"goddamn it, y/n!" dutch yelled. the man's voice was hoarse from lack of sleep and water. his irritation stemmed from plans going wrong, scores being set-ups, and his own gang showing slowly showing their distrust.

"what, dutch?" y/n asked tiredly. they massaged their temple.

their most recent argument was because of y/n tackling dutch to prevent him from being shot in the shoulder. because of this, dutch missfired his bullet and eventually their getaway stagecoach was blown up.

"you have nothing to say?! no apologies!? we could be halfway to tahiti right now, y/n! if it weren't for you-"

y/n scoffed in disbelief and ran a hand down their face. "if it weren't for me saving your life? how much do you even know about tahiti, dutch? i trust you, i have faith in you, i believe in the power of this gang but please. we need to take our time with these pla-"

"don't you tell me what to do!" dutch strode over to y/n who was shaking their head.

y/n- clearly done with the conversation- made their way to their horse. from the faint lamplight, y/n could make out javier and charles both watching the interaction. micah tipped his hat to y/n; micah didn't talk to y/n enough to hate them. john watched dutch and y/n from the fire, already sensing something in his gut.

the anger radiating off of dutch was downright murderous. y/n hadn't even done anything wrong! john gnawed on his lip, one hand unconsciously drifting to his holstered gun.

"we are not done talking about this!" dutch grabbed y/n's arm and yanked hard.

"fuck!" y/n cried, instinctively jerking away from dutch's touch. y/n tore their arm from dutch's hold and, because of all the power that y/n used to get away from dutch, fell forward. a loud snap followed right after y/n collided with the ground.

a morbid choking sound fell from y/n's lips as their head made sharp contact with a rock. y/n felt blood rush to their head because of the odd angle y/n landed in: their head was below their broken legs.

dutch stood, parayzed in his spot. blood flowed out of the side of y/n's head, sliding down the dirt in rivulets. "i'm sorry," he whispered.

"y/n!" javier called, running to where y/n lie. charles followed closely behind, along with john and arthur.

charles set both of their lookout lamps by y/n's head. "be calm, y/n, you're okay," charles soothed, clutching their hand.

javier grasped y/n's other flailing arm, tears springing into his eyes. "you're okay. por favor- please- keep your eyes open," he begged. "mrs. grimshaw will be here soon, yeah? she will get you all fixed up."

arthur shouted for the women to hurry up because he knew y/n probably wouldn't survive this.

charles kept mostly quiet, checking y/n's pulse at random. javier was telling a story, talking about all the beautiful sunsets and sunrises in mexico. john waited off to the side, watching tilly and mrs. grimshaw and abigail share a look before giving arthur a terrible look.

dutch fled. he got on his bright white horse and left. he didn't know how to deal with thaf. he just killed you. you are dead because of him. dutch felt tears roll down his face. he felt the softness of his horse's hair. and he also felt the burning two foot hole in his chest because of the hollow, fearful look in your eyes after hitting your head.

on and on he rode, never stopping and never stalling. with no destination in mind, dutch figured he'd ride till morning then go back to help bury you.

you. you are his new ghost.

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jewels-writes · 1 year

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how i think rdr2 characters would react to you getting injured in a fight

Featured characters: Arthur Morgan, Dutch Van der Linde, John Marston, Charles Smith, Sadie Adler, Lenny Summers, Sean Macguire, Kieran Duffy

WARNING: some people might consider this a little graphic, you've been warned.

(If you want your own custom story with any character from any fandom, please support me on fiverr https://www.fiverr.com/share/vP6NwZ)

Arthur Morgan

You and Arthur had been fighting off a group of bandits, but things took a turn for the worse when one of them landed a blow on you with his axe. You screamed out in agony as the pain coursed through your body, and Arthur quickly came to your side.

"Stay with me, Y/N," he urged, pressing a hand to your wound to try and staunch the bleeding. "You're gonna be alright, just keep your eyes open."

But despite his best efforts, you kept slipping in and out of consciousness. Every time you faded away, Arthur's heart raced with panic. He couldn't lose you, not like this. He needed to get you to a doctor, fast.

Desperately, he tried to keep you awake, talking to you, asking you questions, anything to keep your mind focused. He even resorted to slapping you lightly on the cheek to rouse you when you started to drift off.

As he worked to keep you conscious, he also tried to assess your injuries. He knew that you were bleeding heavily from the wound in your side, but he also noticed that you seemed to have a concussion from hitting your head on a rock during the battle.

"Y/N, can you hear me?" he asked, his voice thick with worry as he gently prodded at the lump on your head. "You hit your head pretty hard, but we need to keep moving. Can you sit up?"

With his help, you managed to prop yourself up against a nearby tree. Arthur carefully examined your wound, tearing off a piece of his shirt to use as a makeshift bandage. He knew it wasn't ideal, but it was better than nothing.

"Alright, Y/N. I need you to be strong for me," he said, his voice firm and determined. "We're gonna get you out of here, but you need to stay with me, okay?"

You nodded weakly, but your eyes kept drooping closed. Arthur knew he needed to act fast if he was going to save your life.

He hoisted you up in his arms, grunting with the effort. You were heavier than he anticipated, but he refused to let that slow him down. He carried you back to his horse, gently laying you across the saddle before mounting up behind you.

Arthur held you tightly as the horse galloped through the snow, his eyes never leaving your face. He could feel your body growing colder and weaker, and the fear in his heart threatened to overwhelm him.

"Stay with me, Y/N," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. "You're gonna be alright, I promise."

It felt like hours before they finally arrived at the doctor's cabin. Arthur rushed in, calling out for help as he carried you inside. The doctor took one look at your injuries and immediately got to work, but Arthur couldn't bear to leave your side.

He sat beside you, holding your hand and watching as the doctor worked tirelessly to save your life. And when you finally opened your eyes, weak and dazed, Arthur felt like he could finally breathe again.

"You scared me, Y/N," he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "But you're gonna be alright now. I won't let anything happen to you."

Dutch Van der Linde

You and Dutch were in the middle of a heated battle against a rival gang. You had been fighting fiercely, taking down several of the enemy members. But in the chaos, you were hit by a stray bullet and fell to the ground, unconscious.

Dutch immediately rushed over to you, his heart pounding with fear. He had always been protective of you, and the thought of losing you was too much to bear. He checked for a pulse, and thankfully, you were still alive.

Desperate to keep you conscious, he called out your name and shook you gently, hoping to rouse you. But you remained still, and Dutch knew he had to act fast. He took off his jacket and wrapped it around you, trying to keep you warm in the midst of the battle and the chilly air.

He pressed his hand against your wound, trying to stem the bleeding as he looked around for a way out. He spotted a nearby alleyway and made a decision. He scooped you up in his arms, careful not to aggravate your injury, and ran towards the alleyway.

As he ran, he spoke to you softly, urging you to stay with him. "Come on, y/n," he whispered. "Don't give up on me now. You're going to be alright."

When he finally made it to the end of the alleyway, he spotted a horse and carriage parked nearby. He rushed over and spoke to the driver, explaining your situation and begging him to take you to the nearest doctor.

The driver hesitated at first, but the desperation in Dutch's voice and the sight of you, pale and still in his arms, convinced him to help. Dutch carefully laid you down in the carriage, trying his best to keep you warm and conscious.

As the carriage set off towards the doctor's, Dutch stayed by your side, his hand still pressed against your wound. He spoke to you constantly, telling you stories and memories in an attempt to keep you alert and awake.

When the carriage finally arrived at the doctor's, Dutch practically carried you inside, begging for the doctor to save you. He watched anxiously as the doctor tended to your wound, his heart racing with fear.

As the doctor worked, Dutch paced back and forth, his mind racing with thoughts of what could happen if you didn't make it. He thought of all the times he had spent with you, all the memories they had shared, and the thought of losing you was unbearable.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the doctor emerged from the back room with good news. You were going to be okay.

Dutch let out a sigh of relief, his body shaking with emotion. He rushed over to you, taking your hand in his and squeezing it gently. "Thank God you're okay," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

From that day on, Dutch made sure to keep a closer eye on you during battles, making sure that you were never put in harm's way again. He realized that losing you would be too great a loss, and he was willing to do anything to keep you safe.

John Marston

You and John were out on a mission with the rest of the gang, trying to take over a rival gang's hideout. But things went wrong and you got shot in the crossfire. John rushed over to your side and saw that you were badly injured. Your eyes kept fluttering shut, and each time you did, John's heart skipped a beat.

He knew he had to keep you awake until they could get you to a doctor, but he didn't know how. He tried talking to you, shaking you, and slapping your face lightly, but nothing seemed to work. He felt helpless and desperate.

"Come on, stay with me," he pleaded with you, his voice laced with worry. "You gotta stay awake, okay? We're gonna get you out of here and to a doctor."

He tried to keep you talking, asking about your favorite things and your childhood memories. He even tried to make you laugh by telling you some jokes, but all he got in return was a weak smile.

As he looked at you, he noticed how pale your skin was and how your breathing was becoming more labored. He had to act fast. He took off his jacket and wrapped it around you, trying to keep you warm. He also checked your pulse and monitored your breathing, trying to keep you stable until they could get to a doctor.

The journey to the doctor was a long and bumpy one, and each time the horse stumbled or hit a rough patch, John's heart would race with fear that you might not make it. He kept talking to you, telling you how much you meant to him and the gang, and how much they all needed you.

Finally, they arrived at the doctor's office, and John carried you inside. The doctor immediately tended to your wounds, and John watched anxiously from the corner of the room.

As the doctor worked on you, John could feel his heart in his throat. He had never been so scared in his life. He paced back and forth, wringing his hands and muttering under his breath.

When the doctor finally emerged from the room, John rushed over to him. "How is she? Is she gonna be okay?" he asked urgently.

The doctor gave him a small smile. "She's going to be just fine. She's a fighter," he said.

John let out a sigh of relief, his whole body sagging with the weight of the tension that had been building up inside him. He looked back at you, sleeping peacefully on the bed, and felt a wave of emotions wash over him.

He knew that he cared deeply for you and that he couldn't bear the thought of losing you. As he sat there, watching over you, he vowed to always protect you, no matter what it took.

Charles Smith

You and Charles had been fighting side by side in a fierce battle against a gang of outlaws. Despite your best efforts, one of the enemies had managed to sneak up behind you and deliver a devastating blow to the back of your head. You had collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

Charles was immediately by your side, his heart racing with fear. He knelt down beside you and checked for a pulse, relieved when he felt it beating steadily beneath his fingertips. But as he watched, he could see that your breathing was shallow and labored, a clear sign that you were in serious trouble.

Without a moment's hesitation, Charles lifted you gently into his arms, cradling you against his chest as he looked around frantically for a way to get you to safety. He spotted a nearby horse that had been abandoned by its owner in the chaos of the battle and knew that it was your only hope.

He carefully laid you across the horse's back, making sure that you were as comfortable as possible, despite your injuries. He mounted the horse himself, holding you steady with one arm as he kicked the animal into motion.

As they rode, Charles talked to you softly, willing you to stay with him, to keep fighting. He could feel the weight of your body pressing against him, a constant reminder of how close he was to losing you. He kept his eyes fixed on the horizon, searching desperately for any sign of help.

Finally, he saw the faint outline of a small settlement in the distance, and he spurred the horse forward with renewed energy. As they drew closer, he could see a doctor's office and he let out a sigh of relief. He dismounted the horse with you still in his arms, bursting into the office and calling for the doctor.

The doctor rushed to your side, examining you carefully as Charles paced back and forth, his heart pounding in his chest. The doctor's face was grave as he spoke to Charles, telling him that you had suffered a serious head injury and that your prognosis was uncertain.

Charles sank into a chair, his head in his hands as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. He knew that he couldn't lose you, that he needed you by his side more than anything else in the world.

He stayed by your side throughout the long, difficult night, his hand clasped tightly in yours as he talked to you softly, willing you to wake up. When morning finally came, the doctor emerged from his examination room with a small smile on his face.

"You're a lucky man," he told Charles. "She's going to make it."

Charles felt the weight of the world lift off his shoulders as he let out a deep breath. He looked down at you, still sleeping soundly, and felt a surge of love and protectiveness wash over him. He vowed then and there to never let anything harm you again, to always be by your side no matter what the future held.

Sadie Adler

You and Sadie Adler had always been close. Despite the harsh life of an outlaw, the two of you had formed a bond that was unbreakable. So when you were injured in a battle with a rival gang, she was by your side in an instant.

You were barely conscious, your head swimming with pain as you struggled to stay awake. But Sadie's voice was a constant presence, urging you to keep your eyes open, to keep fighting.

"Come on, y/n," she said, her voice tight with worry. "Stay with me. You're gonna be okay."

You could feel her hands on your shoulders, shaking you gently as she tried to rouse you from your stupor. You wanted to respond, to tell her that you were trying, but your lips wouldn't move, your voice wouldn't come.

Desperate, Sadie began to slap your cheeks lightly, hoping to shock you awake. You winced at the pain, but it was enough to keep you conscious for a few more moments.

"You're doing great," she said, her voice softening. "Just keep breathing, okay? You're gonna make it through this."

As the world around you began to fade into darkness, Sadie's voice was the only thing that kept you anchored to reality. But soon, even that wasn't enough. You felt your body slipping away, your consciousness fading into oblivion.

But then, just when you thought all was lost, you felt a pair of strong arms scoop you up, cradling you like a child. It was Sadie, carrying you to safety.

"I've got you," she whispered, her voice strained with effort. "You're gonna be okay. I promise."

Despite her small size, Sadie was strong. She carried you for what felt like hours, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as she struggled to keep going. But she never faltered, never gave up.

Finally, you saw the lights of a town in the distance. Sadie carried you to a doctor's office, where they took you in for treatment. As she watched you being taken away, Sadie's eyes filled with tears.

"You're gonna be okay," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Please, y/n, don't leave me. I can't lose you."

Days passed as you lay in bed, your body wracked with pain. But Sadie was there, by your side every moment, her hand clasped tightly around yours as she prayed for your recovery.

Finally, the day came when you were strong enough to leave. Sadie helped you to your feet, her eyes shining with relief and joy.

"I thought I'd lost you," she said, her voice choked with emotion. "I couldn't bear it. You're my family, y/n. You mean everything to me."

You hugged her tightly, tears streaming down your face. You knew that without her, you wouldn't have made it through. And you knew that no matter what happened, you and Sadie would always be there for each other, no matter what the future held.

Lenny Summers

Lenny Summers had never felt so helpless before. He watched in horror as you collapsed to the ground after taking a severe blow to the head during a fierce battle with rival gang members. You were bleeding heavily and had lost consciousness, causing Lenny's heart to race with fear and panic.

He quickly rushed to your side and checked for a pulse, relieved to find it still present but weak. Lenny knew that he had to act fast if he wanted to save your life. He began to shake you, calling out your name in hopes of waking you up.

"Come on, wake up! Stay with me," he pleaded, desperation creeping into his voice.

When you didn't stir, Lenny started slapping your face gently, trying to bring you back to consciousness. But it was no use. You remained unresponsive, and Lenny felt his world start to crumble around him.

Thinking quickly, Lenny lifted you gently and carried you towards the nearest town where he knew there was a doctor. As he walked, he spoke to you, begging you to stay awake.

"Come on, keep your eyes open. You're going to be okay. Just hold on a little longer," he murmured, his voice breaking with emotion.

He could feel your weight becoming heavier in his arms with each passing moment, and Lenny knew he had to act quickly. He started slapping your face harder, hoping to rouse you from your unconscious state.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Lenny arrived at the doctor's office. He barged in and placed you gently on the nearest bed, calling out for the doctor.

The doctor rushed to your side, assessing your injuries while Lenny watched with bated breath. Lenny's heart sank as the doctor confirmed that you had suffered a severe concussion and that the situation was grave.

He knew that he had to stay strong for you, so he held your hand and whispered words of encouragement into your ear, urging you to fight and stay alive.

Hours passed, and Lenny stayed by your side, never leaving your side. Finally, you stirred, and Lenny breathed a sigh of relief. He was overjoyed to see you wake up, and he knew that he would never let anything happen to you again.

"Thank God you're awake. I was so scared I was going to lose you," Lenny said, tears of relief streaming down his face.

You looked up at him, weakly smiling, and whispered, "Thank you for being there for me."

Lenny smiled back, relieved and grateful that you were alive. From that day forward, he made a vow to himself to always protect you and keep you safe, no matter the cost.

Sean Macguire

You and Sean had been fighting for what felt like hours, the adrenaline pumping through your veins as you fired round after round at the enemy. But then, in a sudden moment, everything went black.

When you finally came to, you were lying on the ground, pain coursing through your body. You tried to sit up, but your head was spinning and your vision was blurry. You could hear Sean's voice in the distance, but it sounded muffled, like he was speaking through a tunnel.

"Hey, hey, stay with me," Sean said, his voice filled with panic. "Come on, keep your eyes open."

You could feel his hands on your shoulders, shaking you gently. You tried to focus on his face, but it was all a blur. You felt cold and shaky, and your body was screaming in agony.

"Sean, what happened?" you managed to say, your voice hoarse.

"You got hit pretty bad," Sean replied, his voice trembling. "Just stay with me, okay? I'm gonna try to keep you awake."

Sean's eyes were wide with fear as he looked down at you. He knew that if you fell asleep, you might never wake up. He had to keep you conscious until they could get you to a doctor.

He grabbed his canteen of water and poured some onto a piece of cloth, then gently wiped your face with it. The cold water felt refreshing against your skin, but it wasn't enough to ease the pain.

"Sean, it hurts," you groaned, clenching your teeth.

"I know, I know," Sean replied, his voice cracking. "But you gotta stay strong, okay? We're gonna get you out of here."

Sean knew that he couldn't carry you on his own, not with the enemy still lurking around. He had to get help. He quickly pulled out his whistle and blew it, the sound echoing through the battlefield.

Within minutes, a group of their fellow gang members arrived, and Sean explained the situation to them. Together, they carefully lifted you onto a makeshift stretcher and began carrying you away from the danger.

As they walked, Sean kept talking to you, trying to keep you awake. He asked you questions about your life, anything to keep your mind occupied. You could hear the desperation in his voice, the fear that he might lose you.

Finally, you arrived at a small medical tent, and Sean rushed inside, calling for a doctor. The doctor came over, examining your wound and shaking his head gravely.

"This is bad," he said, his voice low. "We need to get them to a real hospital, now."

Sean's heart sank as he heard the doctor's words. He couldn't lose you, not like this. He had to get you to safety, no matter what.

With the help of the other gang members, Sean carried you to the nearest town, where they managed to find a doctor who could treat your injuries. As you lay on the operating table, Sean sat in the waiting room, his head in his hands.

He didn't know what he would do if he lost you. You had become more than just a comrade in arms, you had become a friend, someone he cared deeply for.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the doctor emerged from the operating room. Sean jumped up, rushing over to him.

"How are they?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

The doctor smiled. "They’re going to be okay. We managed to stabilize them, and they’re going to make a full recovery."

Sean let out a sigh of relief, tears streaming down his face. He couldn't believe it. You were going to be okay.

Kieran Duffy

As the battle raged on, you found yourself in the middle of the chaos, fighting for your life alongside Kieran. The adrenaline pumping through your veins gave you the strength to keep fighting, but eventually, you took a heavy blow to the head, and everything went black.

When you came to, you were lying on the ground, your head pounding with pain. Kieran was kneeling beside you, his face etched with concern.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice shaky.

You tried to answer, but the pain was too intense, and you passed out again.

Kieran's panic increased as he watched you lose consciousness again. He knew he had to act fast to keep you alive. He grabbed a canteen of water and splashed it on your face, hoping to wake you up.

"Come on, wake up," he said urgently. "We have to get you out of here."

He quickly checked your pulse and breathing, relieved to find that you were still alive, but he knew that time was running out. He needed to get you to a doctor as soon as possible.

With all his strength, Kieran lifted you onto his back and began carrying you through the battlefield, dodging enemy fire as he went. He tried to keep you awake by talking to you, telling you stories about his past, anything to keep your mind occupied.

Finally, he made it to a nearby doctor's tent, where he gently laid you down on a cot. The doctor rushed over to examine you, his face grave.

"It's touch and go," he said to Kieran. "We'll do everything we can, but she may not make it."

Kieran's heart sank at the thought of losing you. He knew he couldn't bear it. He sat by your side, holding your hand and whispering words of encouragement to you.

"You're strong," he said. "You can pull through this. You have to."

Hours passed, and Kieran remained by your side, never leaving even for a moment. He watched as the doctor tended to your wounds, his heart in his throat with fear.

Finally, you stirred, and Kieran's heart leaped with joy. He watched as you opened your eyes and looked up at him, confusion written on your face.

"You're safe," he said, relief flooding his voice. "You're going to be alright."

You smiled weakly, your eyes closing again as you drifted off to sleep.

Kieran stayed by your side, watching over you until you finally recovered. He was grateful that he had been there to save you, and he vowed never to let anything happen to you again.

284 notes · View notes

extremelyblackandwhite · 10 months

Text

pairing: dad!bucky barnes x au pair!reader

warnings: age gap (reader is 10 years younger than bucky), smut (18+, dni if under 18)

summary: sometimes the past haunts us

masterlist

- I just don’t agree with it.

Those words were the ones she feared the most. After sweating and crying over a draft of her thesis, one of her supervisors just threw the papers on the desk with as much disdain as someone could muster, without as much of an ounce of mercy. She stared at the papers on the desk, attempting to hide her watering eyes. She shouldn’t be crying, she had been expecting criticism but not an overall dismissal of 4 years of work.

- I’m gonna be honest, Y/N. After 4 years, I didn’t expect to read this sort of work from you. I don’t think we can actually pass this, Y/N. How would you defend this?

- I ... I can rewrite it.

- I honestly do not see it getting any better with a rewrite, Y/N. I’m still waiting on feedback from your other supervisor but I wouldn’t be too hopeful.

She didn’t know what to say, there were really no words or anything she could say right now that wouldn’t downright embarrass her. Her eyes were fully watered as she looked around the countless awards in her supervisor’s office. She used to think she’d once own as many, now she wasn’t as sure.

- We may have to keep you another year.

- But I’m not sure I have enough to cover costs for another yea ... - she stopped mid sentence as her phone started to buzz against her thigh. Looking down at the screen, she saw the all caps name of Sadie’s daycare. - I’m sorry, that’s my baby’s daycare.

She gave her supervisor a loop smile, bringing her phone to her ear only to hear a bunch of nonsense coming from the other side which could only roughly translate into how much they needed her to come down. Perfect, just perfect.

- I’m sorry, I need to go check on my baby.

- You know, Y/N, it may be time for you to check what your priorities are.

- I’m sorry, I’d ask her dad but he’s stuck in back to back meetings. I’m so sorry, I can’t leave her.

- We’ll schedule a meeting once your other supervisor is back.

- Thank you.

She rushed out of the campus and onto her car, drying her eyes with the sleeve of her jumper before driving down to Sadie’s school. Last thing she needed was parents commenting on her red eyes and blotchy skin, it was hard enough knowing her supervisor had seen her like this. Yet again, she wasn’t even sure that was the last thing she wanted as she walked into the dean’s office and found Sadie sitting in one of the kiddie chairs with a band aid on her knee and a crying face. Y/N didn’t know what was more disturbing, if her baby girl crying or Michelle sitting down with her snooty son.

- Oh, Y/N, it’s you. - she looked her up and down.

- Come on, darling. - Y/N ignored Michelle, leaning down to Sadie’s level. The little girl wrapped her arms around her, burying her head in Y/N’s hair. - Who else would it be, Michelle?

- I’m so sorry to call you in. It seems my boy got in a tussle with Sadie.

- Sure, a tussle. My kid has a bandaid on her knee and yours looks just peachy to me.

- She’s not your kid, Y/N. She’s Bucky’s or have you forgotten?

- Sure. - she rolled her eyes. - So what is it that you want Michelle? You want us to sort this out or you wanna flirt with my kid’s dad?

- Just wanted to make sure Sadie was okay.

- She’ll be fine.

Y/N really had better things to do other than deal with Michelle and her eagerness to see Bucky. Right now she was worried about Sadie who was following right after her, arms wrapped around her leg as she enjoyed the swing back and forward. Y/N always knew Michelle’s kid was no good and she wouldn’t be surprised if his mother even trained him to hurt Sadie so she could see James - although, that was the most irrational part of her speaking.

- Come here, squid. - Y/N leaned down to pick the 2 year old so she could place her safely in her car seat. - Did the nurse look at your knee?

- Yes. I gots the red band thingie, see. - she pointed at her knee.

- It’s a band-aid, Sissi. - Y/N clasped the buckles. - You’re being very brave.

- Can I watch Bluey?

- Alright but we can’t tell dad I let you use the tablet on the car, yeah? It’ll be our secret.

- Pinky? - she showed her au pair her pinky which just seemed to brighten her whole day. She nodded, wrapping her own pinky around hers before grabbing the IPad.

Truth was, she was glad her irritation at Michelle had made her forget of the terrible time she’d had at university. Sure, she was probably gonna raise some hell at the next PTA meeting, however, right now what Sadie needed was time and some happy things. As such, she turned left where she should’ve taken right, coming across the small park. Soon enough, the IPad playing Bluey was forgotten in the car as Sadie joined other kids in the playground, while Y/N took it upon herself to join the other mums on the benches watching over their own kids. It was peaceful, the sound of the kids laughter meshed with the sounds of the wind brushing through the trees and the birds chirping. It was nice, at least it was until her phone started ringing. It came as no surprise it was Bucky, Michelle had probably personally called him to somehow explain how her snooty kid hurt his daughter.

- Hello. - she said as she picked up the phone.

- Is Sadie alright? I got a call from her kindergarten saying some kid pushed her.

- She’s fine, Bucky. Scratch on her knee but she seems to have forgotten it’s even there.

- Are you sure? I can get out of work and we can drive her to the hospital and have it checked.

- Buck, it’s a scrapped knee. I’m sorry to tell you but she’ll have plenty of those as she grows up. - she smiled. - Don’t you have a meeting to go to?

- But ...

- Bucky, she’s fine. I think she may be trying to push a boy off a swing but other than that she’s a peach. - she got off from the bench to go and stand next to Sadie who was trying to get a turn at the swings. - Sadie do you wanna say hi to daddy?

- Hi daddy. - she took the phone from Y/N. - Bye daddy.

- That hurt. - Bucky said as Y/N got a hold of her phone before Sadie could run off with it. - We’re already at hi and bye? Soon enough it’ll go from daddy to dad.

- Go to your meeting, Sergeant. We’ll see you at home tonight.

- Are those orders?

- Strong suggestions.

- I’ll see you both tonight.

Bucky put his phone in his pocket, his brain still racketing about his daughter’s wellbeing while at the same time worrying about the back to back meetings that had left him with only 20 minutes to have lunch. 20 minutes which were interrupted by a call from his secretary saying someone needed to see him. He had barely even had time to take a bite from the cheap cafeteria sandwich and was now on his way to his office once more. The end to this day couldn’t come faster.

- Whoever’s waiting, send them in. - he said as he passed his secretary.

- Sergeant Barnes, she’s already in the office.

- What? - he turned around to face his secretary who usually was able to keep anyone and everyone at bay if necessary. - How did ...

- I have my ways. - the door opened from inside. - Besides, we are close.

- Anna?

(...)

There was no way in hell she could ever re-write this. If she was being honest she couldn’t see a major structural or even content flaw in her work. Besides, none of the feedback she received was constructive, it didn’t help her figure out what to do to make it better. Although, her supervisor was quite clear there was no way of making it better. Perhaps her other supervisor would have a better idea or maybe some constructive feedback.

- What are you working on, squid? - she looked to Sadie who looked just as serious about her drawing as Y/N was about her thesis.

Sadie ignored her, her tongue poking out of her mouth as she continued to make a mess of her crayons. Y/N sighed, smiling and ruffling the little girl’s hair as she got up from the kitchen table to grab them something to drink. Bucky had just pulled up on the garage so he’d soon be here for dinner so there was no use in preparing Sadie a snack. If she did, she just knew the toddler would use it as an excuse to have no dinner and munch on string cheese later on.

- DADDY! - she heard Sadie yell out. Good, it was finally time to eat.

- Let me look at your knee. - Bucky looked down at his daughter’s knee. - Are you okay? Does anything hurt?

- No. Y/N gave me another thingie.

- Band-aid, Sadie. - Y/N walked to the dinning table were Sadie was showing Bucky her band-aid. - Can you give me a hand bringing the cutlery and dinner to the table? I need to go to bed early today, Buck.

- Yeah, sure. You go and wash you hands, Sadie.

Sadie climbed down her chair and rushed to the bathroom while Bucky followed Y/N to the kitchen. He was in a surprisingly good mood considering he’d spent the whole day in meetings. Last time that happened, he didn’t even have dinner with them and instead went straight to his study, so this was a refreshing change of pace albeit a suspicious one.

- You’re happy. - she said as she took the cutlery from the cupboard. - Did you have a drink on your way in?

- I actually have good news.

- You had two drinks on your way in?

- I met with Sadie’s mum today. She wants to meet her, we set up a meeting tomorrow.

Oh. That’s why.

She couldn’t explain her, but her heart felt unexplainably tight.

- Oh ...

- Don’t worry, I’ll get her from school, I know that you’re gonna be at Columbia tomorrow.

- I’m not worried about that. - she sighed. Part of her was screaming not to give her opinion but she and Bucky were friends ... or at least they were friendly, and it looked as if he was waiting for her to say something. - Don’t you think it’s a bit soon?

- Soon? She gave birth to Sadie 2 years ago, I’d say a reunion is long overdo.

- I just think you should take it slow. She doesn’t have the best track record and if she leaves again, it might hurt Sadie.

- She’s ready, Y/N. - his tone shifted, turning avoidant.

- How do you know? She hasn’t tried to make contact in two years and what if she flakes at the last minute? How would we explain it to Sadie?

- We? - he crossed his arms. - Last I checked she is my daughter and you’re the person I pay to watch over her. I explain things to her and I make the decisions.

- Sadie took some time getting used to me, Buck.

- You’re not her mother!

- You don’t need to speak to me like that. - she set the cutlery and plates down on the kitchen counter. - I worry about Sadie and I worry that you’re rushing into this because of your obsession with giving Sadie a mother.

- You should worry about keeping your job if you continue talking.

Y/N’s mouth shut as she starred at him, eyebrows furrowed as if she couldn’t believe what had come out of his mouth. They hadn’t had the best track record together, at least from the beginning where they were constantly clashing against each other, yet he had never threatened her job. She always felt confident enough to give her opinion where it seemed relevant.

- I am not hungry. Suit yourself.

Bucky was left with the tray of lasagna and the dishes to put on the table. At least that. He wasn’t even sure if he would be able to find the dishes if he had too. Besides, she was overreacting. From his point, she had no right to talk about what was right and wrong when it came to Sadie’s mother. She needed a mother and if he could finally give her that he would. If he could give her a sense of normalcy, something that resembled the picket white fence, mum, dad, kid and the pet, he would. He’d do everything for her.

- Washed hands. - Sadie rushed into the kitchen, showing her dad her clean hands.

- That’s great, baby. Here take your plate to the table and I’ll bring the food.

- Don’t like lasagna. - she crossed her arms not to differently to how he had just done.

- What? You love when Y/N makes lasagna.

- Because of the song?

- What song?

- The lasagna song.

- Well ... - he kneeled to her height. - If you don’t eat your lasagna then I won’t give you the surprise.

- Surprise?

- Tomorrow ... - he tucked her hair behind her ear. - Tomorrow, I’ll pick you up from school and we’ll go to that coffee shop with the bunny cakes to meet your mum.

- I know my mummy, daddy. You’re being silly.

- She’s really excited to meet you. She even said she may bring some photos of when you were in her belly so she can see.

- I have a mummy already.

- Sadie, I know you really like Y/N but she is not your mum.

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan fanfic #bucky #bucky barnes #bucky/reader #bucky x reader #bucky/y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky/you #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #single dad!bucky

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mummybear · 8 months

Text

My Brother's Best Friend - Chapter One - Unexpected Night

Words: 4079

Warnings: Swearing, Dirty Talk, Attempted Assault (Implied Sexual), Possessive Stiles, Protective Stiles, Grinding, Talk Of Marking, Protective Scott. Think that's it.

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall, Reader/Sadie McCall, Lydia Martin, Liam Dunbar, Allison Argent, Travis(OC)

Summary: Stiles Stilinski has always been your weakness, but since he was your brother's best friend you'd stayed away. When Stiles comes back to Beacon Hills fresh from his time in the FBI Academy something is very different about the boy you once knew.

A/N So hey guys! I know it's been a while hopefully this is the start of me getting back into my writing! We shall see. I really hope you guys enjoy this, any feedback is encouraged as always, and please let me know if you would like a tag as I update.

Chapter 1 - Unexpected Night

I can’t believe this goddamn party is still going on. I am far too drunk right now, I just want to sleep. However, as usual, my dumbass brother is too busy making out with his girlfriend. Don’t get me wrong, Allison is amazing, and I’m so happy for them. They had realised that they belonged together not long ago, after years of dating something happened. Scott didn’t explain it further than saying it was a wolf thing, that apparently I wouldn’t understand.

Mom always tells me never to go home by myself, however, right now I’m seriously considering it. I don’t even know why I came here tonight. It was stupid, they’re all his friends anyway, the great Scott McCall, I’m pretty sure people forget that I even exist. Not that I have any ill feelings towards him, he’s my brother, yes he might be a giant pain in the ass but all he’s ever done is protect me and look out for me.

If I’m honest with myself, I do know why I came here tonight, Stiles is here. He’s finally back from his FBI training, I hadn’t asked Scott too much about the situation, or how long he was back for. In fact I hadn’t even seen him yet.

Yes it’s one giant cliche. I have the world's biggest crush on my big brother’s best and oldest friend. I think I have since I was ten and Stiles was fourteen, I’ve been following them around for the better part of ten years. Before that I’d avoided them as much as possible. Then one day everything changed, as soon as I started hanging out with Scott and his friends, I finally felt like I fit in. I’m not sure what changed exactly, but whatever it was made it easier for me to become part of their group. Scott’s probably everything a big brother should be, and I know if he knew what I felt for Stiles he’d try and talk to me about it. Probably try and make me see what I’m already afraid of, that Stiles and I wouldn’t work.

Not really sure why I’m having these thoughts, probably has something to do with the fact that I’m drunk off my ass, in this random ass house. And while it may not be the best time for it, when I’ve been drinking my mind tends to wander.

After finally traipsing my way upstairs I find a bedroom, one that doesn’t really appear to belong to anyone, at least not permanently. Maybe it’s a spare room? People still have those, right? I close the door softly behind me. I’m unable to find a lock for the door, so I opt to just lay down for a minute or two, just to rest my eyes. I quickly climb up onto the bed and as soon as my head hits the pillow I let out a sigh of relief, finally giving in. I close my eyes, hoping that both the room and my head will stop spinning at some point soon. I can hear some kind of arguing going on behind the door, but I can’t bring myself to open my eyes, it feels like they’re being weighed down, I hadn’t had a drink in such a long time, but I don’t remember it ever hitting me like this before.

Suddenly there’s the sound of the door crashing open, as it bounces hard against the wall, before it slams closed again. I wince, feeling a throbbing in my head suddenly and manage to wrench my eyes open. However, they snap all the way open in fear as soon as I register the big body standing in the corner of the room. I can feel eyes on me as a tense silence settles over the room. Clearly he knows I’m awake, but he’s yet to make a move.

A sudden sickness overtakes me, when I hear Stiles on the other side of the door, quieter, but still audible, shouting my name, or his nickname for me. Mini or Mini McCall was the go to name for me among most of Scott’s friends. He sounds worried as he calls for me, and my head is so foggy that I can’t concentrate on anything, I can’t even tell if I’m imagining Stiles calling for me, why would he want to find me? He hadn’t so much as texted me since he’d been home, much less tried to see me or speak to me in person. It was strange, almost like he was avoiding me, even Stiles’s dad hadn’t seen him yet.

I clear my throat, testing out if I can speak or not, but the nerves are clear in my every word. “W-Who are you?” I manage to stutter out, my throat a little sore and my voice a bit hoarse.

“Don’t you worry about it, Doll. Just close your eyes, don’t worry about anything, I'll take real good care of you. Go back to sleep,” there’s a clear threat in that deep voice, one that makes me shudder.

I quickly sit up, doing my best to ignore the way the entire room blurs and moves once again. As I try to back myself into a corner, trying to make myself as small as possible. I know it’s stupid, but I also know I don’t stand a chance in hell of standing up right now, I’m scared and drunk off my ass, feeling like a fucking idiot for isolating myself in a freaking bedroom of all places, I should’ve just found Scott, or even Lydia.

He smirks at me as starts to walk closer and I can finally see his face. I don’t recognise him, but that isn’t really a shock, he’s definitely older than me, not sure if he’s older than my brother though. A sickness coats my throat just seeing the look on his face, the sick twisted grin. The door hasn’t stopped rattling since he stepped inside, so I keep my gaze fastened to it.

I’m hoping for a miracle, however unlikely it might be. He closes in on me until I can no longer see the door behind him, because this guy's huge hulking frame is blocking my view of anything but him. On instinct I close my eyes and hold my legs tighter, and I finally let out a scream.

“Stiles!” The scream sounds helpless and terrified as it’s ripped from somewhere deep within me, which makes complete sense, given the current circumstances.

He reaches for me, I can feel his large moist palm as he grips my knee squeezing roughly, trying to pry my legs down or apart, with enough force to leave a bruise. But before he can get too far, the door smashes open against the wall once more, revealing a much more welcome intruder. My heart thuds even harder in my chest, because the guy releases me in surprise and whirls around on my saviour.

I see him then, Stiles Stilinski in the flesh. And what flesh it is, he’s put on muscle lately. Muscle that could rival even that of my big brother, the true Alpha. But this guy is huge and I can see Stiles gulp from across the room, but his eyes harden as the flick between me and the guy who still has his hand firmly gripping my knee.

“Get your filthy fucking hands off of her!” Stiles shouts, taking another step into the room.

“Nah. Not gonna happen.” The guy states with a slimy grin, as his eyes slide over me, making me wish I was anywhere else.

“I said get the fuck away from her. What the hell is wrong with you?!” Stiles growls, stepping closer to this giant of a man. But I can only watch from where I sit, still paralysed with fear.

“Get over yourself, Stilinski, we were just gonna have a little fun. Stop being so hard up, go find your own pussy. This one's mine tonight, maybe I’ll let you have a go tomorrow. After I’ve used her up, such a pretty little body, bet she’s gonna feel real fuckin’ good.”

The words almost make me throw up, but my tongue feels swollen and I can speak. My eyes lock with Stiles for the first time in years as a tear slides down my cheek.

“I’ll make you fucking eat those words, Travis. The only thing you’re about to feel is my fist,” Stiles snarls, “take your fucking hands off of her.”

“Whose makin’ me? Your pansy ass?” Travis laughs, removing his hands and taking a few steps closer to Travis.

Suddenly those deep brown eyes draw me in like never before and my heart stills in my chest. This is the first time I’ve seen him in a few months. The FBI program has kept him so busy lately that we haven’t seen much of him. But still, I could swear there’s something a little different about him, other than his size, but there’s definitely something different about his eyes, something that I can’t quite place.

I can’t tear my gaze away, instead they fall to his lips and I shift uncomfortably where I sit, suddenly a growl tears through the room. My eyes widen and I look to the doorway behind Stiles, expecting to see my brother, but he isn’t there. I swallow thickly as my eyes automatically snap back to Stiles, and I see it, the flaring of his nostrils, the way his eyes are focused entirely on me, then I realise the sound could only have come from him. But he doesn’t share the same wolf affliction that my brother has, at least, not that I know of. How much has changed since I last saw him!

Stiles steps closer, body tense and unflinching. All traces of fear have disappeared from his face. Now he just looks furious, more so than anyone I’ve ever seen before.

“Mate.” Stiles snarls, shoving the guy as soon as he’s close enough, and to my utter shock and surprise the guy slams back into the wall with a crash, leaving behind an imprint of his giant body as he slides down the wall with a groan. Everything happens so fast, I don’t have time to analyse what the hell Stiles meant when he’d growled that one word. But I can’t help but shudder with excitement at the way my body responded.

Suddenly, I hear footsteps hammering up the stairs, and before I know it Scott has Stiles pinned against him, as Liam all but wrestles the other guy from the room.

“Stiles, you need to calm down, breathe buddy. ” Scott instructs calmly, his deep red Alpha eyes flaring to life, like they would when he’s trying to calm the other members of his pack. Something flits across my brother’s face as he relaxes his grip a little. Whatever it is, seems to register with Stiles that other than my brother we’re alone in the room and safe once again.

His body goes completely lax and Scott releases the tight band he’d been holding around his best friend. I can’t help but stare as Stiles staggers towards me. Safe to say I’ve sobered up in the last five minutes.

“Can one of you tell me what the hell just happened here?” Scott asks carefully, but I can’t take my eyes off of Stiles.

“Just give us a minute, Scott. I, um, I think I should talk to Stiles.”

I hear my brother huff out a breath before he leaves, closing the door quietly behind him.

“I’ll be back in ten if you’re not downstairs before then, we’re going home.” He calls through the door. Then the door opens again and Scott smiles at us both, “oh and thanks for having my sister's back, buddy.”

Stiles turns towards the doorway with a slight smile as his eyes lock on his Alpha, “Always, Scotty, you know that. We won’t be long.”

I finally let myself relax a little when the door closes. Stiles crawls on the bed and sits in front of me. He rests his hand over the reddened skin on my knee, and lets out another quieter growl. “I’m gonna fucking kill him. He won’t ever touch anyone ever again.”

“Hey, I’m okay,” I whisper, resting my hand on top of his, “you saved me.”

He runs a shaking hand through his thick hair and his eyes lock with mine once more.

“I should’ve been here. I’m supposed to protect you, I’m so fucking sorry, Mini. If that sick fuck had touched you…” He sounds so defeated and my heart squeezes at his words.

“You got here in time, you’ve always had my back. This time wasn’t any different, except maybe that,” you giggle slightly, as you nod toward the dent in the wall.

He shifts closer to me and drops his forehead against mine, letting out a contented sigh. I let my eyes slip closed for a second. For once I give myself the freedom to enjoy the closeness, I open my eyes again and those gorgeous chocolate brown eyes are focused on mine. I lick my lips and feel the shuddered breath that escapes his lips.

Ever so gently he reaches out and his thumb brushes my bottom lip.

“You’re so fucking beatiful. Please tell me you feel this, Mini, because you smell so damn good, I don’t know If I’m strong enough to stay away.”

I swallow thickly as his nose nudges mine gently, my entire body practically vibrating with need.

“Y-Yeah, I feel it,” I reply quietly, scared that if I talk too loud this dream will end, I don’t dare to tell him just how long I’ve felt these things though.

“Then we should probably talk. Because I need to tell you some things before this goes any further,” he replies, voice hoarse and strained, like it’s painful for him to speak these words. But then he goes to pull away and all my instincts go into overdrive, and I finally give in to what I want, I clamp onto him and don’t let go.

Nor do I fight the need to keep him close to me. Right where he belongs. My fingers push into his thick hair and I gently tug him back towards me, just those last few millimetres. Until his lips brush mine ever so briefly. He doesn’t even try to fight me, and I can feel the shudder that runs through his entire body when I push him back and straddle his lap, wrapping my legs around his waist. I think there’s some kind of trick of the lights because I could swear there’s this purple glow in his eyes for a few seconds before they settle back on brown. But I push the thought away for now, and press myself a little closer. So that every part of our bodies is connected.

“Tell me later, please Stiles, I need this.” I hope I don’t sound as desperate as I feel, Stiles doesn’t move, but I hear how hard he swallows, almost like a gulp as he lets his eyes slip closed. Following his lead I let my own eyes close when his hand cups my cheek, the other hand slips somewhere much less innocent. When he cups my ass his long fingers curl and he squeezes slightly, letting out a groan of pleasure when I grind down against the obvious hardness pressing against me.

Suddenly his lips are on mine, insistent and urgent, and it feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room. Our lips are in perfect sync, and a shudder rolls through me when his tongue nudges my lips, seeking permission that I happily and easily grant. I’m rocking my hips in a steady rhythm now, and the kiss grows deeper, his fingers dig harder into my skin as he urges me to keep moving.

Holding me as close as he physically can against his body, Stiles sits up, turning us so that my back hits the mattress and he’s hovering above me. He breaks our kiss and I gasp for breath as he drags his lips across my cheek and down into the crease of my neck. He groans as he inhales deeply, “smell so good. My mate. Just wanna mark you up, make you mine the right way.” His voice vibrates against my skin and I shiver as he laps at the soft skin of my neck.

Confusion sweeps through my lust-addled brain at his wording.

“What do you mean?” I ask breathlessly, more confused about his words than I’d care to admit.

Pulling back to meet my eyes he smiles, and ducks his head looking a little more like the Stiles I remember. I cup his cheek gently, urging him to look at me again.

“This is why I said we should talk. I can’t do what I need to. Not without you knowing what you’re letting yourself in for. I’m not the same man I was the last time I saw you, something happened, I just…I don’t know how to begin to explain this.”

It hurts me that he sounds so defeated already, almost like he’s worried about what he has to tell me.

“Don’t you know by now, nothing you tell me will change how I see you,” I tell him honestly, pulling him closer so his body is pressed against mine, and he finally lets some of his weight rest on me.

“I wanna believe you, but I’m scared. This is huge, and I can’t let anyone down, but especially you, I can’t lose you. Especially not now I know what you are to me, not now I’m so close.”

Before I can ask what he means there’s a hesitant knock on the door, before it slowly creaks open. Liam stands there, watching us sheepishly for a few seconds before Stiles growls at him, I can’t help but frown as I look up at my protector. But then I see it again, the purple in his eyes.

The gasp falls from my lips unintentionally and as soon as it does Stiles snaps his gaze towards me. Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath, his fingers tightening their hold on me and I can only stare up at him.

“Liam, get the fuck out. Now!” Stiles snarls.

“But, Scott said…”

Stiles is off the bed before I can react, when I do finally open my eyes I can’t believe what I’m seeing. Stiles has Liam pinned to the wall by his throat. And Liam is trying to get free, but he’s stuck fast. I can’t help but wonder, how the hell is that possible!

Mouth agape I watch as my brother’s Beta looks over at me, “little help here, mini. Calm your man down, please.”

My man? I inwardly ask myself, we’ve fooled around for all of 5 minutes and suddenly he’s mine. While I can’t fight the pleasure at hearing those words, I also can’t help but fight the confusion, maybe he wants me to calm Stiles down so he doesn’t have to hurt him.

“What do you want me to do?” I ask nervously, looking between the two of them.

Stiles gives a final squeeze before dropping Liam and racing to me, covering me with his body.

“Don’t you dare fucking look at her!” Stiles snarls, his arms shaking as he holds himself above me. “Tell Scott we’re coming and leave now!” Stiles warns in a low commanding voice that sends shivers racing across my body as he carefully tugs my skirt back into place.

I can’t deny the pulse between my thighs, even as I clamp them shut, and the whimper that falls from my lips causes Stiles to stiffen. Before he’s off the bed, practically throwing Liam further down the hallway when he doesn’t move by himself, slamming the door behind him. Before he turns back to me.

“God, please tell me you know what you just said,” Stiles rasps as he pulls me up off the bed and hauls me against his hard body.

“I don’t… what do you mean?” I ask, frowning in confusion, as I try to search his eyes for an answer. I hadn’t said anything… had I?

Stiles whimpers like those words cause him some kind of pain. He shakes his head, running his fingers through the thick mass of hair before tugging at it harshly. I want to comfort him but I don’t know how. Hell I don’t have a clue what the fuck is happening right now.

“We can’t do this. Not right now.” His words sound harsh and bitter, no matter how softly he speaks them.

I stumble away from him, confusion and hurt lancing through me like an actual weapon. I know there’s a reason for this, but it doesn’t hurt any less, doesn’t feel any less like rejection either. Tears fill my eyes, it’s irrational and I don’t feel even remotely in control of my emotions right now, but I can’t stop it, maybe i’m still drunk. Though it doesn’t feel like that’s it. Stiles steps towards me again and I step back, “no, no. Please, Sadie, I want to. But not until you know everything! I swear to you, whatever you’re thinking, we can talk about it. Please, Mini, just trust me.”

Hearing my real name on his lips is so strange, but I can’t deny that I really like hearing him say it.

I feel myself giving in, because as much as it hurts to have him turn me down, he's still one of the best people in my life. And despite myself, I’ve been in love with this pain in the ass longer than I can even remember, he’s yet to let me down in a real way. Letting out a sigh, I know it’s best to give him the chance to explain.

“Fine. Then let’s talk.”

He swallows thickly, as I watch him carefully. Pretty sure I’m not going to like the next thing that comes out of his mouth. He looks nervous and twitchy.

He winces before he even speaks, “I’m sorry. But not here, let’s go home, there’s too many ears here. I swear I’ll tell you everything as soon as we’re safe,” he all but begs, holding out his hand for me.

Pushing away any and all doubts, I take his hand. Watching as he visibly relaxes and pulls me closer to him.

“Thank you, I promise, I’ll make this up to you,” he whispers before pressing a kiss to my inner wrist. Yet another shiver ripples through my body at the contact that I can’t control.

He keeps me tucked into his side as we leave the room, careful to touch as few people as possible while we walk. When we finally make it outside, Scott’s waiting with the rest of the pack. Stiles looks reluctant to get in the car, judging by the way Liam forces his body closer to the opposite door Stiles’ look had been less than friendly.

He slips inside and I can’t help but squeak in surprise as he hauls me inside with him, not into my own seat but so that my back is tightly pressed against his front, and his arms band protectively around my waist.

“Dude. Come on! Not in my car, she’s still my little sister. Damn,” Scott groans, locking eyes with Stiles in the rear view mirror.

Stiles seems to consider his words before he reluctantly relents, moving to the middle seat before he gently eases me into the seat as far away from Liam as humanly possible. Keeping a hand firmly planted on my thigh, huffing like a petulant child, I can’t help but giggle. It’s almost like he can’t stop himself from touching me. His long fingers tightly curl around my leg, almost like he’s afraid someone will take me from him if he lets go. Taking a deep breath I tentatively slip my fingers between the gaps in his, gently squeezing them, hoping to offer even a little comfort, those big brown eyes jump to mine and he visibly relaxes into the seat.

I look up and catch my brother’s eyes. I can’t work out the look on his face, for the first time since we were kids, I can’t tell what he’s thinking and for some reason that only makes me even more anxious.

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